


The Mark of Fen'Harel

by CrazyArtChic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, Arlathan, Breaking Up & Making Up, Charleston (Location), Closing Fade Rifts, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Diamondback - Freeform, Dreams, Drinking Games, Drinking Songs, Evanuris, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fade Dreams, Fade Kiss, Fade Romance, Family, Fate, Feelings, Fights, First Kiss, Fist Fights, Friendship, Hawke knows everything, Hawke lands in Arlathan, Hawke meets Abelas, Herald's Rest, Humor, Hunting Fen'Harel, M/M, Making Out, Memory Loss, Minor Character(s), Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Relationship(s), Reluctant, Resistance, Romance, Romantic Tension, Roughhousing, Roughness, Sex, Sex Magic, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Shapeshifting, Sharing secrets, Shenanigans, Singing Maiden, Smut, Snowball Fight, Soul-Searching, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Sparring, Spells & Enchantments, Stolen Kiss, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Temporary Amnesia, The Fade, The Qun (Dragon Age), The Veil (Dragon Age), Time Travel, Underage Drinking, Virginity, Wicked Grace, friends - Freeform, giving in, hunter and prey Solas, interrupting, possible happy ending, temporary memory loss, what if, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 263,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyArtChic/pseuds/CrazyArtChic
Summary: In the time before Elvhenan fell, Fen'Harel is made to create a spell to find his Mate. He puts qualities that no (one) person could possess, though he does add things he secretly desires. Years later, he's forced to face the consequences of that spell. She is everything he's ever wanted, and nothing he needs right now. He has his cause to think of now, his people, and he does not deserve whatever happiness the spell could bring.Hawke has never been safe, on the run since what happened at the Gallows. Fenris is the only one who was able to stay by her side, the brother she adopted long ago. When he leaves to protect her, she is captured. She meets the Dread Wolf though he does not know she knows. What she does know is that he is an egotistical overblown jackass, and if he thinks she'll back down, he's got another thing coming.They circle one another, each trying to figure the other out. He is set on ignoring her. The two will rock the Inquisition, and the world may never be the same. What do you do when you have the attention of an elven god? What do you do when the object of your affection is someone you are trying to avoid? and what will happen, if they finally come together?





	1. Finding her

**Author's Note:**

> Alright people, this is the work I've pretty much ignored my other stories for, even the ones on Fanfiction.net. Sorry about that. I have more chapters I'll load soon, and then maybe my other stories can be loved on again.
> 
> All elvhen is either from project elvhen, or screwy truth translations.
> 
> The main relationship is for Solas and Female Hawke. All other relationships are filler or background. Yes, Iron Bull and Dorian are together in this one. No, I don't really get detailed with it, because they're not my main focus. Got a message about trigger warnings for that, so consider this the warning. 
> 
> As for torture, abuse, past trauma, I will give trigger warnings at the top of the chapter.
> 
> I dont own the world, I just roll around in it.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Since beginning to work with the Inquisition, Solas had been in an assortment of odd locations, but he does not know where he is now. A jail cell is his best guess, sure, but that begs the question of how he got here. Seeker Pentagast is not so unreasonable as to toss him into a cell in his sleep…at least not yet. A shuffling sound behind him alerted Solas to another presence in the cell with him, and he turned to see who it was. There, in the back corner of the cell, was a woman.

She had her arms around herself, her legs folded in on the floor, and a hand on one of her ankles, without any form of clothing. She had her face turned away from him, hidden by beautiful ink black hair, but from the way she cringed, she knew he was there. Solas tried to take a step towards her, but she shrank even further into the corner, if such an achievement were possible. Strange vallas'lin covered her entire body, but they did not belong to any of those he was familiar with. He crouched down to her level, and tried again.

“ _Dirtha ma, girem'lan, sai esahn te na shaelyl?_ ” Solas asked, gently.  ** _Tell me, slave, to whom do you belong?_**

“ _Lahna em ei girem'lan sal melana, eil itha ahn sua sai na_.” The words were soft, spoken with a voice that had not seen use in some time, but the force of her voice showed through.

**_Call me a slave one more time, and see what happens to you._ **

“ _T_ _eleolasan. Ane syri vianvallasa tel Vallas'lin?_ ” He asked, not wanting to anger her.  ** _I don't understand. Are those markings not Vallas'lin?_**

He would get no answers that way. The Dalish had refused to hear him when he tried to explain what the vallas'lin were. Granted, he hadn't expressed truthfully how he knew that, passing it off as knowledge he learned while walking the Fade. The Elders had known enough to listen to his stories of ancient times, but the second he brought up the vallas'lin, that stopped. So he was surprised with the fire of this woman.

“ _Din_.” She growled, her voice a bit stronger now. _“Es'an ane_ _tel._ _Es'an ane lyrium._ ”  ** _No. They are_ _not_ _. They are lyrium._**

Then she said something that surprised him.

“ _Na ane tel'vaer. Dara var, eil vara em sasha._ ” She demanded, her voice still raspy, but strong.  ** _You are not real. Go away, and leave me alone._**

“ _Itha eir em. Lasa em sai itha nar inan._ ” Solas said, coaxingly.  ** _Look at me. Allow me to see your eyes._**

She turned her head to face him slightly, as if she wasn't sure why she should be listening to what she thought of as a hallucination. Yet when she was able to see him, her eyes widened, and Solas was struck by the most brilliant bright deep blue he had ever seen, like lyrium. She searched his eyes, for what he wasn't sure. Then, tentatively, she reached out with one hand to touch his face.

“ _Na'ne vaer?_ ” She asked, and he heard the first stirrings of hope. **_You're real?_**

The moment her hand touched his face, he was lost. Despite being here for an undetermined amount of time, she felt **_warm_** to him. Almost consciously, he leaned into her hand. There was something he wasn't seeing, something important. At the moment, he couldn't think of what it was, but it called to him.

“ _Ane na a_ _hnsul ara_ _shos'lavin nuisa?_ ” She asked, hesitantly. **_Are you why my ankle hurts?_**

“ _Ahn?_ ” He asked, not understanding. **_What?_**

She slowly removed her hand from her ankle, and his eyes became impossibly wide. What he saw shook him. She should not have that mark, but there it was. On her ankle, was the outline of a howling wolf, his mark for a spell he'd only cast once. He reached out slowly, looking to her for permission, to touch the mark.

“ _Thu ter na gara min?_ ” Solas asked, not knowing what else to say. **_How did you get this?_**

“ _Shenathe vianvallas. Ra ema tel nuem i've. Teleolasan. Ahnsul air min arulin?_ ” She replied.  ** _Birth mark. It has not hurt before. I don't understand. Why is this important?_**

“ _Ar'an ema sai gara na tor or amahn. Mala. Ver min. Gara julathen. Te na tara? Vira?_ ” He said, suddenly filled with a sense of urgency, taking off his top belt and shirt to give to her.

**_We have to get you out of here. Now. Take this. Get dressed. Can you stand? Walk?_ **

He has no idea why the sudden sense of urgency has hit him, but he hands her the items and turns to give her some semblance of modesty. She doesn't hesitate to put on the shirt, though it looks like more of a short dress on her as it reaches her knees when he helps her stand, and the belt, which she ties around her waistline to keep the shirt down. A sound down the hallway alerts them both. Some one is coming their way, and quickly. There isn't much time to hatch an escape plan.

“Come on. Come on.” She mutters, as she snaps her fingers. Suddenly a small spark ignites. “ _Yes!_ ”

“You speak trade?” He asks, surprised.

“If I said no now, would you believe me?” She asked, playfully, her eyes alight with mischief. “You spoke to me in elvhen first. So, that's what I answered you in. I really think we have bigger things to worry about than my proficiency in languages.”

She makes her way to the door, and starts maneuvering her fingers as if she has lock picks. He isn't sure what she means to do, but a moment later, the door opens. She lets out a noise of triumph, and starts quickly walking down the hall. He has no choice but to follow her, and does so, wondering what her next move is. Somehow, he gets the feeling that he _needs_ to follow her.

“You! Stop!” A guard shouted, upon seeing them.

“Well, shit.” She grumbled. “Alright. Let's see if my magic has had time to recover to do this.”

Raising her arms, to either side of her, only the forearms going towards the guard, she moves them as if a ballista had just been fired…All around them, other cells opened, and prisoners rushed out. The guard suddenly had other problems, and she continued to walk down the hall. From the looks of things, she seems to be searching for something. He watches as she walks through the fighting in an unhurried pace, as if she has all the time in the world…or she has overdone it.

“BarkSpawn! Where are you?” She shouted, straining to listen for something.

“BarkSpawn?” Solas asked, confused.

“My Mabari. These bastards took him from me, and if they've killed him, I'm burning this motherfucking building to the ground…just as soon as my magic recovers…and I can find me something to eat.” She answers, as she continues to quickly walk down the halls. “I don't know how long I've been here, but it's been long enough that if I use any more magic like _that_ , I'll pass out.”

“I don't have anything on me, _Ir abelas_.” Solas replies, still thinking about the Mabari. **_I'm sorry_**

“You literally just gave me the shirt off your back, so that I don't have to wander around this shit hole buck ass naked, no puns intended, and you're sorry you have no food for me.” She comments, like she can't quite believe it. “You are an odd duck, you know that?”

“Why haven't you tried to escape before now?” Solas asked, curious.

“Considering I had enough Magebane in my system to knock out the First Enchanter? I'm surprised my magic's recovered at all.” She replied, still looking around. “I don't know how they knew. It's not in any of the stories. Varric left that part out, I'm sure of it. I actually thought they would have made me tranquil, but it's like they forgot about me. They just threw me in here…after taking my Mabari, and my _clothes_ _._ ”

“Why do you even have a Mabari at all?” He asked, unable to hide his distaste for the creatures.

“You're not from Fereldan, are you?” She replies, with a smile, though it's a statement more so than a question. Then she sees something that makes her happy, and runs towards it. “BarkSpawn! Oh, what did they do to you, boy?”

“Here. Let me. You said no more magic for you right now anyway.” Solas volunteered, unsure of what made him want to do this for her, and uses the motions she did earlier to break the Mabari out of the cage he was in. When BarkSpawn jumps out of the cage, Solas visibly flinches, and when the woman looks at him questioningly, he admits. “I don't have…the best history…with hounds.”

“I understand. He says you're alright, though, if that helps.” She offers, then looks to the Mabari. “Did you see where they took my stuff?”

The Mabari barks, and trots off in a different direction. She wastes no time, and follows the Mabari as quickly as she can, dodging fighting prisoners and guards along the way. Solas doesn't understand why she's listening to a Mabari, or how she can even understand the creature in the first place. She has given him many things to think about, whether she knows it or not. The mark makes him question everything.

“My clothes are gone, but at least they didn't burn the shoes.” She mumbles, as she's putting them on. They are woven boots, much like his own. Then she begins looking through everything else, picking up items as she goes. “Weapons, journals, potions. Where is it? Where is it? Ha! There you are! I've missed you, old friend.”

The Mask of Fen'harel, she's talking to the Mask of Fen'harel. He'd recognize that mask anywhere, considering he'd made it. A wolf skull with black fur attached, the mask was intelligent, and helped with maneuverability in battle. She puts it on her head without a second thought, and it disappeared. That she would even wear it surprised him, knowing that his legacy had been twisted over the years.

“ _A_ _r eolasa, Ar eolasa. Ir abelas. Ar tel eolasa thu as'an talandraer sai vor na o em._ _” She said, so quickly that he almost didn't catch it._

**_I know, I know. I'm sorry. I don't know how they managed to rip you from me._ **

“Where did you get that mask?” He asked, angrily.

“Full of questions, aren't you?” She teased, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Your ear…” He said, his voice trailing off. Her ear was almost as long and tapered as his, but it was closer to her head, and mutilated.

“I really must be going. No time for long stories.” She replied, before heading out into the craziness that was a prison riot.

-

Moments before…

 

Since having to run from the hiding spot, things had taken a turn for the worse. She wasn't even sure how they'd gotten the drop on her, but they had. They'd wasted no time in giving her more magebane than she'd ever been dosed with in her whole life, and left her there in her birthday suit. She'd been half out of her mind for most of the time, huddling in the corner was the only warmth the room provided, but when someone randomly popped into the room she was glad for whatever way to hide her body from them. She wasn't even sure she could fight them off, as those people had left her there and had not come back.

Her ankle flared up in pain, something that had never happened before, and she tried to recall half forgotten stories her father had said to her. She remembered that it was important. There was a more immediate threat to assess at the moment anyway. She didn't sense danger from him, but she didn't know if she could trust that. There were plenty of people who didn't look dangerous that were.

“ _Dirtha ma, girem'lan, sai esahn te na shaelyl?_ ” The man asked, gently.  ** _Tell me, slave, to whom do you belong?_**

“ _Lahna em ei girem'lan sal melana, eil itha ahn sua sai na_.” She'd responded without even thinking about it, or her precarious position. **_Call me a slave one more time, and see what happens to you._**

“ _T_ _eleolasan. Ane syri vianvallasa tel Vallas'lin?_ ” He asked, sounding confused.  ** _I don't understand. Are those markings not Vallas'lin?_**

So the vallas'lin were the markings of a slave? Well, there was her new learned thing for the day. Hawke had always assumed they were showing what elven 'god' they wanted to be aligned with. Hawke realized though, that being aligned with could loosely be construed as slavery, but only because those being no longer walked among the living. Were they there now, it would be a different story.

“ _Din_.” She growled, her voice a bit stronger now. “ _Es'an ane_ _tel._ _Es'an ane lyrium._ ”  ** _No. They are_ _not_ _. They are lyrium._**

“ _Na ane tel vaer. Dara var, eil vara em sasha._ ” She demanded, her voice still raspy, but strong.  ** _You are not real. Go away, and leave me alone._**

“ _Itha eir em. Lasa em sai itha nar inan._ ” The man said, coaxingly.  ** _Look at me. Allow me to see your eyes._**

Wait a minute…this was a hallucination…right? She turned her head to face him slowly, unsure why she was even doing this. When she saw him though, she knew that this could be no hallucination. Power came from him, though it felt subdued somehow, as if it were asleep. Even so, she felt the need to reach out to him, to touch his face, if only to reaffirm that he was indeed real.

“ _Na'ne vaer?_ ” She asked, hopeful now. **_You're real?_**

The moment her hand touched his face, she knew. Images flooded her mind, and her ankle still in pain, and she **_knew._** He subtly leaned into her touch with his eyes half closed, almost as if he wasn't aware that he was doing so, while she inwardly reeled at the images that ran through her mind. Did he know that she knew who he was? Had he meant for her to know?

“ _Ane na a_ _hnsul ma_ _shos'lavin nuisa?_ ” She asked, hesitantly. **_Are you why my ankle hurts?_**

“ _Ahn?_ ” He asked, not understanding. **_What?_**

She slowly removed her hand from her ankle, and his eyes became impossibly wide. He didn't seem to know what to do at first, and just stared at it. She had no way to know what he was thinking, but it was clear that he had not expected to see that mark. Even stranger to her, she knew that he had recognized it, knew it for what it was, even if she couldn't remember at the moment. He reached out slowly, looking to her for permission, to touch the mark.

“ _Thu ter na gara min?_ ” He asked, still at a loss. **_How did you get this?_**

“ _Shenathe vianvallas. Ra ema tel nuem i've. Teleolasan. Ahnsul air min arulin?_ ” She replied.  ** _Birth mark. It has not hurt before. I don't understand. Why is this important?_**

“ _Ar'an ema sai gara na tor or amahn. Mala. Ver min. Gara julathen. Te na tara? Vira?_ ” He said, suddenly filled with a sense of urgency, taking off his top belt and shirt to give to her.

**_We have to get you out of here. Now. Take this. Get dressed. Can you stand? Walk?_ **

It had surprised her when he started taking off his shirt, but then he'd handed it to her, along with the belt that had been over it. She is glad when he turns slightly to give her some small amount of privacy, considering how much of her nakedness he'd already seen. She doesn't hesitate to put on the shirt, though it looks like more of a short dress on her as it reaches her knees when he helps her stand, and the belt, which she ties around her waistline to keep the shirt down. A sound down the hallway alerts them both. Some one is coming their way, and quickly. There isn't much time to hatch an escape plan.

“Come on. Come on.” She mutters, as she snaps her fingers. Suddenly a small spark ignites. **“ _Yes!_ ”**

“You speak trade?” He asks, surprised.

“If I said no now, would you believe me?” She asked, mischievously. “You spoke to me in elvhen first. So, that's what I answered you in. I really think we have bigger things to worry about than my proficiency in languages.”

She wasn't going to be able to do a lot, but she was glad she had been able to get her magic working again at all. There had been a sense of urgency that may have forced her magic to react sooner. She makes her way to the door, and starts maneuvering her fingers as if she has lock picks. A moment later, the door opens, and she lets out a noise of triumph. Alright, now to get out of there, find her Mabari, and maybe her clothes.

“You! Stop!” A guard shouted, upon seeing them.

“Well, shit.” She grumbled. “Alright. Let's see if my magic has had time to recover to do this.”

Raising her arms, to either side of her, only the forearms going towards the guard, she moves them as if a canon had just been fired…All around them, other cells opened, and prisoners rushed out. The guard suddenly had other problems, and she continued to walk down the hall. That had taken a lot to do that, but she doesn't let it show. There are more important matters now.

“BarkSpawn! Where are you?” She shouted, straining to listen for something.

“BarkSpawn?” He asked, confused.

“My Mabari. These bastards took him from me, and if they've killed him, I'm burning this motherfucking building to the ground…just as soon as my magic recovers…and I can find me something to eat.” She answers, rambling, as she continues to quickly walk down the halls. “I don't know how long I've been here, but it's been long enough that if I use any more magic like that, I'll pass out.”

“I don't have anything on me, _Ir Abelas_.” He replies, sounding genuine. **_I'm sorry_**

“You literally just gave me the shirt off your back, so that I don't have to wander around this shit hole buck ass naked, and you're sorry you have no food for me?” She comments, like she can't quite believe it. “You are an odd duck, you know that?”

“Why haven't you tried to escape before now?” He asked, curious.

“Considering I had enough Magebane in my system to knock out the First Enchanter? I'm surprised it's recovered at all.” She replied, still looking around. “I don't know how they knew. It's not in any of the stories. Varric left that part out, I'm sure of it. I actually thought they would have made me tranquil, but it's like they forgot about me. They just threw me in here…after taking my Mabari, and my _clothes_.”

“Why do you even have a Mabari at all?” He asked, unable to hide his distaste for the creatures.

“You're not from Fereldan, are you?” She replies, with a smile, though it's a statement more so than a question.

Considering everything she saw when she touched his face, she isn't sure she should reveal what she knows just yet. She is also not ready to think about how good he looks without a shirt on, like someone had sculpted his muscles out of marble. That thought will be kept to herself until she can deal with getting out of this hellhole, and then maybe she'd think about it. She wonders, vaguely, what he will think when he realizes what she has of his. Then she sees something that makes her happy, and runs towards it.

“BarkSpawn! Oh, what did they do to you, boy?” She exclaimed.

“Here. Let me. You said no more magic for you right now anyway.” He volunteered, surprising her. When BarkSpawn jumps out of the cage, Hawke does not miss the way he visibly flinches, and looks to him in concern. After a moment, he admits. “I don't have…the best history…with hounds.”

“I understand. He says you're alright, though, if that helps.” She offers, then looks BarkSpawn. “Did you see where they took my stuff?”

BarkSpawn barks once, and trots off, leading her. She wastes no time, and follows as quickly as she can, dodging fighting prisoners and guards along the way. She is surprised that the man follows her still, figuring that he would have vanished when she'd gotten out, instead of following her into the inventory room, curious as to what she's looking for. He remains silent, as if he isn't sure of what to say.

“My clothes are gone, but at least they didn't burn the shoes.” She mumbles, as she's putting them on. They are woven boots, much like his. Then she begins looking through everything else, picking up items as she goes. “Weapons, journals, potions. Where is it? Where is it? Ha! There you are! I've missed you, old friend.”

She knew he'd be curious about why she had his mask. There would be confusion, anger, and more. Of course he would recognize the mask, considering that he'd made it. She puts it on her head without a second thought, having trusted it with her life more times than she can count, and it disappeared. She can see the surprise in his posture, that he didn't think anyone would willingly do what she had just done.

“ _A_ _r eolasa, Ar eolasa. Ir abelas. Ar'tel'eolasa thu as'an talandraer sai vor na o em._ _”_ She said, so quickly that he almost didn't catch it.

**_I know, I know. I'm sorry. I don't know how they managed to rip you from me._ **

“Where did you get that mask?” He asked, angrily.

“Full of questions, aren't you?” She teased, tucking her hair behind her ear. So he had decided to go with anger first then.

“Your ear…” He said, his voice trailing off. Shit. She had forgotten about that.

“I really must be going. No time for long stories.” She replied, avoiding his statement, before heading out into the craziness that was a prison riot.

-

“ _Etunash!_ ” He cursed, sitting straight up in the bed. **_Shit!_**

“Solas? Solas, are you awake? Your expertise is required.” Cassandra said, curtly, after knocking on the door.

“Give me a moment to freshen up, and I will be right there, Seeker.” He called out, shaking the dream from his mind.

There would be much to do before he had the spare time to explore the meaning of them. That was odd, his shirt was gone. Did he take it off before heading to bed? Doubtful in this cold climate. He shrugged, and simply put on another shirt.

Stepping out into the cool air, he looks to the Seeker, and asks. “How is she?”

“Ran into problems with a small rift on our way back.” Cassandra explained, very business like, as they walked. “She sealed it, but the after effects are what concern me. She is dreaming things, a woman in trouble…and a mabari hound, of all things.”

“I will see what I can do.” He said, keeping his voice level.

He needed to talk with Lavellan. If she was having the same dreams he was, it wasn't to do with the rifts. It had to be something else, like maybe the woman was calling across the Fade for help without knowing what she was doing. It had been a form of communication across vast distances before, but now it seemed no one knew how to do it. So when someone did, it was an accident or a desperate push on their magic to call for help.

“I was told you were having mysterious dreams.” Solas stated, the second he walked into the healer's rooms.

“If I had any drawing ability, they might not think I'm crazy, but…well…I'm terrible at it.” Lavellan admitted, with a somewhat sheepish grin. He would never admit it to anyone, but he thought it was adorable how she blushed when admitting such things.

“I don't believe these dreams of yours are connected to a fade rift.” Solas stated, comforting her. Lavellan looked both relieved and disappointed at the same time. “However, I do think it may be a powerful mage asking for help. She may not even be aware that she's doing it.”

“My dreams don't show her using any magic, though. She doesn't even carry a staff.” The young woman said, as if in deep thought.

“I believe we may be sharing dreams, _lethal'lan_. If we are, it is possible that she is putting everything into calling for help.” Solas replied, surprising the Herald. “She is…quite loud in her pleas.”

“How long for you?” She asked, her emerald green eyes widening even as her voice lowered, leaning in like they were talking about a conspiracy.

“Last night it felt like I was truly there, _lethal'lan_.” Solas admitted, with a sigh. “She is in grave danger, where ever she is.”

“Describe her to me…” Varric said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Solas had dismissed him before, sitting on the side as he was, assuming he had come to check on Lavellan. “I hope I'm wrong…Please, let me be wrong.”

“Shoulder length black hair, blue eyes, long legs. She has some kind of tattoos. I thought they were _Vallas'lin_ , but they don't belong to any of the elven gods I know of.” Lavellan replied, looking to him now.

“Where is she? Did you recognize any landmarks?” Varric asked, suddenly determined. Solas did not expect to see such a drastic change in the normally jovial dwarf.

“As of last night, she was escaping from a holding cell of some kind. I found her there. Those are not _vallas'lin_. She said they are lyrium, and they are all over her body.” Solas replied, in his usual scholarly manner.

“How do you know that?” Varric asked, looking at him with suspicion.

“When I found her, she was in the corner of the cell…naked. Whoever captured her took all of her clothes, drugged her with enough magebane to knock out the First Enchanter; her words by the way, and left her to rot. She also said something about you not writing about that in your stories, though I don't know what that means, I'm sure you do, master Tethras.” Solas stated. “She had a birthmark, the outline of a howling wolf on her ankle. I gave her my shirt so she wouldn't be unclothed, which might explain why I woke up without one this morning, but not how. Her Mabari is called BarkSpawn, I believe.”

“What happened?” Varric asked, looking more worried than he's ever seen.

“I don't know. I woke up here right after she found her things.” Solas replied. “She was on her way out.”

“I told her to stay put, that it would be safe where she was. I don't understand how she got captured.” Varric mumbled, looking more troubled by the minute, then announced. “I'm leaving.”

“Dwarf.” Cassandra warned, practically growling at him. “You don't even know where she is.”

“Don't you _'Dwarf'_ me, Seeker! It's your fault she's in this mess, and if anything happens to her, by the time I'm through with you the Maker won't even be able to find what's left!” Varric snapped angrily, turning to the woman quickly. “I'm going after her! She would do no less for me.”

“Who is she, Varric?” Lavellan asked, instantly concerned. “I'll gladly help you find your friend.”

“She's technically the reasoned I was drafted into the Inquisition, the reason why the Seeker here felt it necessary to torture me for three days before deciding to **_graciously_** let me go.” Varric replied, more calmly to Lavellan, though it was clear he held a deep seated anger towards Cassandra.

“After you lied to me about not knowing her location, and then spun some ridiculous story about her escapades.” Cassandra countered, with a snort.

“I was not going to subject her to **_you!_ ”** Varric growled, now shouting. “After everything that's happened to her, I was not going to add you to the mix. Your people have done **_enough_** to her.”

“The Champion of Kirkwall would have been a voice of reason among the mages. They **_respect_** her! She could have helped us at the Conclave!” Cassandra shouted back, facing the dwarf.

“Or she could have been blown up with it.” Varric countered, stopping Cassandra cold. “I, for one, am glad I didn't take that chance.”

“The Champion of Kirkwall? You mean it's Hawke?” Lavellan asked, making a connection Solas did not understand. “I remember seeing parts of the Exalted Plains, if that helps, though I didn't see the holding cell Solas did. How soon can we make it there, Solas?”

“She may not have that kind of time.” Solas explained, after a moment. “It will take us days, weeks even, to reach her.”

“Then we'd better get started. I told Flint once that I'd always bet on her making it through anything.” Varric said, as he made his way to the door. “I never said anything about her having to go through it alone.”

“Flint?” Solas asked, turning to Lavellan.

“It's his nickname for Hawke.” Cassandra said, resignedly, before she too walked out of the room.

“Well, we'd better get started. You coming with us, Solas?” Lavellan asked.

“I believe I shall accompany you this time, _lethal'lan_.” Solas replied, and they walked to join the others. “It is intriguing that her magic could call to us both from across the Fade, even more strange to pull someone through it to where they are.”

“That isn't the first time she's done something like that without knowing it.” Varric stated, hearing them as they walked up to the stables. “Though, the pulling someone to her thing is new.”

“She's…done this before? This…Flint of yours?” Solas asked, more intrigued. “Not many alive can claim such ability, Master Tethras.”

“Called to a hedge mage from across the fade? Yeah.” Varric replied, with a chuckle. “She said last time it happened, a Witch of the Wild answered. The woman turned out to be the daughter of Flemeth, who Flint says houses the soul of an old god…Mythal, if I'm not mistaken. I forget that you refuse to read my works. I wouldn't have to explain so much if you would just read it.”

“After reading Swords and Shields, you can not think to blame me, Master Tethras.” Solas said, noting that Cassandra of all people blushed at that.

“I thought elves were suppose to be pretty open in their sexual practices, Chuckles. I had no idea you were such a prude.” Varric replied, with a knowing smirk. “Besides, The Tales of the Champion doesn't have a single smutty page about her.”


	2. Dreams or not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hasn't yet hit him just how much trouble he's in. He'll figure it out soon enough, and when he does, he'll handle it with all the arrogance of a fallen elven god.

Chapter 2

That night at the campfire, Varric sat up waiting. He'd not been able to sleep, his thoughts busy with his friend. Everything should have been fine, unless something had happened to push her out. It shouldn't have. The hiding spot was perfect, or it should have been .

"Master Tethras, you will do your friend no good by staying up all night." Solas said, looking up from his sketch. "Perhaps it would help to talk about your friend."

"You're asking a story teller to talk, Chuckles. Are you aware of how dangerous that is?" Varric asked, slightly amused. "What are you working on over there anyway?"

"The Herald may not have any artistic ability, but I do. I've been working on recreating some of the things I saw of her. She is...fascinating, this Flint of yours." Solas admitted.

"Mind if I take a look at them?" Varric asked, curiously. 

Solas handed over a latched folder, and went back to work on the drawing he had. Varric couldn't help but wonder if Solas and the Herald had witnessed things that had really happened to her after he'd left. In Solas's drawings, he saw the place she'd hidden in, and the reason why she'd had to run. Tevinter mages? She'd already had to run from Seekers, Templars, bandits, and rogue mages.

"If she is a mage...why does she fight like this?" Solas asked, though it was more like he was talking to himself than to Varric.

"If she's pushing all of her magic into asking for help, she may not have access to it. Though, being drugged with that much Magebane would do the trick too." Varric replied, catching Solas by surprise. "She's had to hide from Templars in the City of Chains, Chuckles. You get use to other weapons. That woman is anything, but defenseless."

"Why does she travel with the Mabari?" Solas asked, not hiding his distaste, earning a chuckle from Varric. 

"You're not from Fereldan, are you?" Varric asked, though it was more a statement than a question. 

"She said the same thing." Solas admitted, much to Varric's amusement. 

"That Mabari has been by her side through everything. Her run from the darkspawn, the return of her family home, becoming Champion...even the deaths of her father, sister, brother, and her mother. That last one...Fuck. That last one was one hell of a mess." The dwarf said, thinking back on it all.

"What happened?" Solas asked, looking up from his drawing. 

"Crazy blood mage killed a bunch of women for their body parts, trying to recreate his dead wife. Her mother happened to have a face damn similar to the woman, and we didn't make it in time to save her. That woman was practically the group's mother, looking out for all of us. Flint was never quite the same after that." Varric said, with a sigh. "After that, there was only one mage Flint trusted not to go crazy when using blood magic, a dalish elf that got kicked out of her clan for practicing it. Of course, it helped that the girl used it to save lives rather than butcher innocents."

"Such trust was undoubtedly not won easily after such an atrocity." Solas commented, looking deep in thought. "She told me that the Mabari says I'm alright, though I can not fathom how she understands the creature. Does the Mabari trust the dalish elf?"

"Of course. Daisy spoiled that thing rotten with doggy treats and belly rubs." Varric said, with a bit of a laugh. "Turns out he's one hell of a Diamondback player too, though he plays a mean Wicked Grace on occasion."

"The Mabari...plays cards?" Solas asked. This is the first time Varric has ever seen Solas confused, and he's trying to commit the image to memory.

"He cheats better than I do some days, though he has a bit of an obvious tell, if you know what I mean." Varric replied, grinning as he remembered .

"Why do you call her Flint?" Solas asked. The drawing is completely forgotten now.

"It fits her. The way she can manipulate flames, like it's a living thing. She's like that with all magic, but fire is her specialty. Plus, there's this grin she has right when she's about to kill an enemy, like she knows they're dead before they do." Varric said, thinking of how to describe it. "It's mischievous, wolfish, and fiery all at the same time."

"This one?" Solas asked, finding a particular sketch in the folder he'd given to Varric. 

"Exactly!" Varric exclaimed, then looked at the picture more closely. "It almost looks like she has..."

"Fangs." Solas continued. "Just how well do you know this friend of yours, Master Tethras?"

"We've all got secrets, Chuckles, Flint is no different. We've been through too much for me not to trust her to have my back. It's no surprise to me that we still have secrets from each other." Varric replied. "Thanks for listening to me. I think I'll be able to sleep now. You good to take over for watch, Chuckles?"

"Of course, master Tethras." Solas said, with a slight nod.

\-----------

"Tell me what this is." Solas insisted, handing Varric a piece of paper the next morning.

"Good morning to you too, Chuckles." Varric said, with a smirk. "Sleep well?"

"Damn it, Child of the Stone, if you would please, just..." Solas said, aggravation leaking through his voice. "It's important."

"It's her birthmark. We talked about this before." Varric replied, confused. "Why?"

"This can not **_be_** a birthmark. It simply is not possible." Solas began. "It is the mark of a spell, a powerful location spell...You're saying she was **_born_** with this?"

"That's what I said, Chuckles." Varric replied, getting a little annoyed now.

"My apologies, master Tethras." Solas stated. "When she explained this to me, I thought she was in shock, or that she just didn't want to talk about it."

 _"Mamae_ always said this was the mark of _Fen'Harel,_ that any who had it were cursed." Lavellan said, looking at the piece of paper now. "It's said that through the mark, he can find them anywhere."

"You've got that half right, though I suppose if you don't want to be found, it would make it a curse. That mark is so that _Fen'Harel_ can find you if you need him, or if he needs you." Solas stated, in his usual studious manner. He was leaving out a crucial piece of information, but he wasn't lying. "I am surprised it is even known to us at all, _Lethal'lan."_

"I doubt Flint would think it much of a curse anyway." Varric declared, with a bit of a snort.

"Why?" Solas asked, intrigued and more than a bit confused.

There was someone who knew of him, and did not believe Fen'Harel was a curse? Unless it was one of his network, such a person did not likely exist in these times, and yet she had put on the mask of Fen'Harel without hesitation. She was born with the mark of Fen'Harel, not knowing that it had sealed her fate. He was surprised that there was anyone who knew what it was, no matter that they had gotten the meaning of the mark wrong. He needed to know more about her, and resolved to ask the dwarf as many questions about her as he could.

"I don't know elven lore well, but from what Flint told me, he'd be the one I'd want in my corner." Varric said, as he began packing his things. He was looking down, so he missed the shocked look Solas had on his face. "The Dalish have a lot of bad things to say about him. No offense, Lightning. Yet he's the one they run to when the chips are down, and they need to pull some crazy miracle out of their ass. She said no one would be as devious as he is, or as merciless, and that's why elves invoke him for help as a last resort. The downside to that, she said, is that if you weren't grateful or expected him to do everything, he'd turn on you too."

"She believes in the elven gods?" Lavellan asked.

"Sort of? She doesn't think of them as gods, more like powerful mages that didn't know when to stop." Varric chuckled. "Sort of how people really believe you're the Herald of Andraste."

"Any other surprises, Dwarf?" Cassandra asked, sternly.

"With Flint? Always, Seeker." Varric replied, unfazed. "I'm sure you'll discover one or two."

\---------------

She'd been running again, he could see, but this time she was wounded. There was an arrow sticking out of her left shoulder. The Mabari picked up a stick, and sauntered over to her with it. He thought that the Mabari wanted to play fetch or something, but he was surprised when she took the stick from the dog and bit down on a part it had not been holding. Solas caught on to what she was going to do a second before she did it, but the muffled scream still surprised him when she pulled the arrow out.

She spit out the stck, and sniffed at the arrow. "Doesn't smell like poison, at least. That's got to be a good thing, right? Thanks for the stick, boy. I wouldn't have thought of that." 

The Mabari barked once appreciatively.

"Think you can help with the bandages too?" She asked, a soft smile on her lips. To Solas's surprise, the Mabari went over to her bag, and brought out a smaller bag to her. "What would I do without you, boy?"

Solas had no doubt the Mabari was preening at the praise, if that puffed out chest of his was anything to go by. She cleaned out the wound as best as she could, and then slowly began to wrap it. The Mabari would nudge the material till it was within her grabbing range, and the two repeated the process till she was satisfied with the job. When it was done, she gingerly sat back against the wall, while she chewed on some elfroot. Opening a flask with one hand, she cocked another grin at her Mabari. 

"Don't suppose you'd mind if I don't share this time, do you?" She asked, her voice pained. The Mabari simply tilted his head, and looked at her. "I know, I know. You don't approve. Tell you what. I'll only take a few sips, and put the rest back. Better?"

The Mabari instantly broke out into a grin.

A snapping of a twig caught her attention. Solas isn't sure how she heard it. She wasn't taking any chances, and instantly closed the flask as she moved back to grab the bigger bag, but before she could get to it, a lone templar appeared at the entrance to the cave she'd been hiding in. Red lyrium slightly protruded from the armour.

"Damn." She grumbled, before trying to talk to the templar. "Come on. If you leave, we can both pretend we didn't see each other. I don't want to have to do this."

The templar moved to charge her, but before it could, it became stone. Solas didn't think his eyes could get any bigger. It wasn't possible, but when she reached out with her hand, a light flashed in her eyes, and the templar became stone. It didn't seem like she was accustomed to using such an ability, and she sank back down against the cave wall. Her breathing became heavy again, and he realized she'd passed out.

 He was filled with a sudden dread when he saw that there were more templars coming. The Mabari noticed too, and tried to nudge her awake. That didn't work. The enemy would be upon her soon, and in her weakened state she wouldn't be able to fight them off. Solas realized that he was going to have to do something,  but wasn't sure his magic had recovered enough to fight as he was here.

"Get up! You have to get up now! You have to go!" Solas shouted, moving to shake her. She jerked awake, and stared at him as if she wasn't sure he was really there. "You have to leave! Now!"

\------------

  _ **"Fenedhis!"**_ Solas cursed, angrily,  when he woke up.

"What's wrong?" Lavellan asked, rushing to him.

"She's wounded. Arrow to the shoulder. Red lyrium templars are converging on her location." Solas said, in a rush. "She'd passed out after dealing with one of them. I tried to wake her."

"Tell me she's alive, Chuckles." Varric said, somewhere between an order and a plea.

"She was able to wake. It is possible." Solas stated, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to think.

"Cassandra." Lavellan called out.

"On it." Cassandra replied, already on her way to get the horses ready.

\--------------

Though they knew they couldn't reach her that day, they all rode much faster than they would have. It was some time before Solas looked to be more like the aloof elf she had begun to call friend. These dreams unsettled him, though there was something to that she didn't understand. So, while Cassandra and Varric rode ahead, she stayed by Solas. There wouldn't be another time to talk about this privately. 

"I stopped having those dreams the day we left to find her." Lavellan said, when he seemed a bit more settled. "You're still having them. Why is that?"

"I have my suspicions, but I do not know for certain, _Lethal'lan."_ Solas replied, looking ahead. "She shouldn't have been able to see me. I shouldn't have been able to give her my shirt before, or shake her awake. If that had not worked...I cannot say what would have happened to Varric's friend." 

\---------------

"It could be romantic if you spin it right." Lavellan remarked, after a moment, earning her a side glare which she giggles at.  _He has no time to be thinking such things._ "Varric, what do you think? Giving her clothes to protect her modesty, a prison break, midnight rendezvous, a couple of apostates gazing at each other under the stars, a desperate search to find one another? If that's not worthy of one of your friend fictions, I don't know what is."

"What are you talking about, Lightning? I've already got the story written in my head. I'm just waiting on Chuckles here to fill in the blanks." Varric said, casually.

  _Is he serious? Where did this foolish notion even come from?_

"This is...you can't be serious. She's your friend, and she's in danger." Solas said, scolding him. "Weren't you the one insisting we save her now?"

"I've got 5 silver on a Fade kiss!" Lavellan called out, happily, tossing the coin to Varric. 

_What...the...actual...fuck?_

"I'll take you up on that bet. I'm actually surprised it didn't happen already." Varric said, jotting things down in his betting book. "I'll raise you 3 more that it will be their first kiss."

 "You two are being infantile." Cassandra objected, sternly.

  _Finally, a voice of reason._

"Thank you, Seeker." Solas said, grateful to her.

"The first kiss will not be in the Fade. It will be in some romantic setting, or right after a battle, but it will be in the physical world." Cassandra continued, completely dashing his hopes that she was a voice of reason.

_Damn it._

"Care to put your money where your mouth it, Seeker?" Varric asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "Romantic setting or after a battle?"

"After a battle could technically be a romantic setting." Lavellan offered up, trying to help Cassandra, giggling when Solas glared at her again.

"8 Silver says it will be a romantic setting outside the Fade, Dwarf." Cassandra huffed, even as her face turns a little pink.

"Nice doing business with you, Seeker." Varric smirked, writing more in his betting book. "You want to bet, Chuckles?"

"Does **_she_** bet with you like this?" Solas asked, defensively.

"Yes. Flint and I have bet on everything from life and death, to the colour of one's smalls." Varric answered.  _Oh, for the love of-_ "Nothing is out of bounds when it comes to betting."

"Fine then. 6 silver says none of your bets win, and we will both be completely uninterested." Solas replied, hoping to end the betting.

"Can he do that?" Lavellan asked, curiously.

"There's grounds for it." Varric replied. "For as long as I've known her, Flint hasn't been **_interested_** in anyone, not that there weren't people willing. It's not an interesting bet, but it is a safe one. Way to ruin the betting mood there, Chuckles, and here I had such high hopes for you too."

\---------

 He should not be here, not like this, not when she's in a hot spring. There's steam everywhere, so it's not like he can see anything, but even so he turns around so he won't be staring. It's rude to spy on someone like this, in such a vulnerable state of being. His only solace is that he hopes that she can not see him, or that he can disappear before she does. However, he begins to hear her laughter, and when he turns around to face her, he realizes that he is wrong in his assumptions. 

"Can't say I ever thought you would try **_this."_** She said, smirking ar him.  _Wait, was she...was she teasing him?_

"This was not my intention." Solas said, not knowing what else to say. "I will just be going."

 "Alright, but you'll be wasting a good time to talk. It's not like I'm going anywhere, and I have tons of things I want to ask. Don't you?" She replied, floating the offer out there.

"Shouldn't you be here alone?" Solas asked, incredulously. "Aren't you in danger?"

"Always. I am a wandering apostate, after all. Surely you know what that's like." She laughed, and then continued more calmly. "If you mean those red lyrium templars from before, then no. They've backed off for the moment. I imagine their trap isn't set yet. I wonder if I should feel honoured that they're trying so hard."

"It is still not safe to be so....unclothed while running from danger." Solas chided.

"Fighting for one's own freedom while running around completely naked....That does sound like something Varric would write about in one of his smutty books." She mused, then laughed at the look on his face. "You know Varric? Tell me, does he know you've been visiting me at night like this? Has he started a betting ring yet?"

The look on his face must have revealed more than he meant to, because she's laughing again. The things she says though, catch his attention. It's almost as if she knows more than she should, as one that has been running alone. Where would she have picked up this information? How much does she know about him? 

 "I do know master Tethras, but he's not the one that started the betting ring, that would be the Herald Lavellan." Solas admitted, though he wasn't sure why. "Are you safe for now?"

"As much as I can be." She replied, sinking into the waters a little more with a happy sigh. 

"Your ankle..." Solas said, trying to think of a way to bring this up.

"Why do you keep asking about my ankle? You saw me completely naked, you know. I mean, there was only so much of me I could hide, but still. Is that what does it for you? Ankles?" She asked, with an arched eyebrow and a grin.  _Fenedhis lasa! She **was** teasing him! _ "I suppose I have nice ankles. I've never really had anyone comment on them before. The rest of Thedas seems to have a thing for my legs."

"The mark on your ankle. What is it?" He asked, ignoring her teasing. He needed to know for certain. "I know you said it was a birthmark, but that isn't possible."

He is not some adolescent, and her teasing **_will_** not affect him. Any remark in that regard would just add fuel to the fire. His goals had not changed. However, there was a small part of him that had to admit that when he'd had the chance to really look at her, it had been her legs he'd lingered on. He mentally shook himself, trying to remain focused long enough to get his answers.

"That's what I assumed it was, though Father did warn me I'd have to watch out. It wouldn't do to catch _Fen'Harel's_ attentions for something trivial." She answered, shocking him again, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the hot spring. 

_Just how many times was she going to shock him like that?_

She opened one eye, and asked. "Why? Is that why you showed up in my cell? Is that why you're here now?"

"You know.....who I am?" His eyes widened, and the words were out of his mouth before he could think to stop them. "How?"

"Now, if I go giving away all my secrets, what fun would that be?" The woman asked, with a grin, both eyes open now.

She's grinning at him with that damned wolfish grin of hers, the one Varric said was reserved for when she knew something was dead before it did. Did that mean that she was hunting him? The thought was one that he hadn't considered, and he could not help the rush of indignant pride that swelled up within him. Did this foolish young thing really think she could hunt him like he was some common prey? With that thought in mind, he jumped into the hot spring.

When he came up for air, she didn't even look surprised that he'd jumped in at all. She'd baited him, knowing that his arrogance and perceived superiority would win out. She didn't move when he moved closer to her, or when he placed his left forearm next to her head against the boulder. If he moved any further forward, they would be touching, and yet she did not flinch. Her eyes didn't even hint at uncertainty as she arched an eyebrow as if to bait him again.

Fine, if she wanted to play that way, he was game. He pressed her against the rock, and began nipping along her left collarbone and up the side of her neck. She just clung to him with her right arm, the one not in the makeshift sling. Damn it, he didn't think this through. Maybe she really was hunting him.

"How did you know,  _ara'aenor?"_ He asked, failing to keep the huskiness out of his voice.  ** _my prey._**

"mmm..... _Ar ema sai dirtha min air tath on'ala vir Ar'ema shael av'ahnan tath._ " She moaned ever so slightly when he nipped just below her ear lobe, and he smiled against her skin. Fuck! That sound was sweeter than any drink he'd ever tasted. " _Sathan, tel'sildeara la na nuven sai dian sul ara'eth._ "

**_I have to say this is by far the best way I've been interrogated thus far. - Please, don't feel like you need to stop on my account._ **

"How do you know,  _ara'aenor?_ " He asked, again.

_Yep, she was definitely hunting him._

"If I tell you, you'll leave. If I don't tell you, you'll leave." She teased, evading him again. "Exactly what is my incentive to tell you anything?"

She had a point, he realized, as he looked into her eyes again. This was a really bad idea. The mark had done its job, revealing her to him, but he didn't know if she knew that or not. He couldn't risk her telling the others who he was, not when he still had so much work to do. His focus suddenly shifted to her lips, only just now noticing the deep warm dark red that they were, almost like blood.

Without answering her, he leaned in until he was a hair's breath away from those lips. This was a terrible idea, he kept telling himself, even as they both stood there refusing to move. Suddenly,  the choice wasn't his to make anymore. She had moved just enough to where their lips touched, and he lost himself to the kiss, pressing them just a touch more into the rock behind her. Her right hand was still clinging to the back of his neck.

When she nipped at his lower lip, he couldn't help but deepen the kiss, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a moan as she opened herself up to it. Fuck, if this wasn't the best bad idea ever. This has to stop, he kept telling himself, even as he enjoyed the shiver that went through her when he ran his fingers along her hip under the water. He backed away a little when the lyrium lines reacted to him. They now glowed a soft blue, calling him, pulling him to her.

" _Ina'lan'ehn._ " He whispers, as he caressed her jawline.  ** _Beautiful._**

She looked surprised to hear the word. Had no one described her as such, or was it something else? The lyrium lines themselves gave off a soft glow, illuminating the hot spring around them. They highlighted her eyes, making them seem as if they were made of lyrium as well. Her ink black hair framed her face, and he very much wanted to run his fingers through it.

"A name. I need a name." He said, not knowing how much longer he had, after he had gone back to kissing along her neck. "Something to call you other than Hawke or Flint."

 _"Alhasha"_ She whispers, right before she playfully nips at his ear.

\---------

 Moments before....

She feels him again, before she sees him, and isn't really sure what to do about it. She's alone in a hot spring, naked. Sure, there was steam everywhere, and he'd already seen her naked once already, but even so. It was rude to spy on someone like this. However, when she opened her eyes, she sees that he has his back turned, and she can't help but start laughing. 

Of course she's going to tease him. He looks so uncomfortable as he's trying not to look below the water. The look on his face is priceless when she starts teasing him about Varric, smutty books, and fighting for one's freedom while naked. Besides, when is she ever going to get this chance again? He wants to know what she knows, and wants to know what she would do with such knowledge. That much is easy to see in his gaze.

Why does he keep asking about her ankles? Oh yeah, right, the mark thingy. There was something special about that, her father had said. But in her efforts to tease Fen'Harel, she let it slip that she knew who he was. Shit, she was going to have to play it like she meant to do that 

The shocked face of Fen'Harel is too good to pass up. It's not often one can surprise a trickster like this one, and she revels in it while she can. She can't help but grin at him with that wolfish grin of hers. Varric had often described it as predatory, and she supposed it was. What would Fen'Harel do if he thought she was hunting him instead?

He jumped in the hot spring, he **_really_** jumped in the hot spring. The action wasn't as surprising as it was amusing. She'd baited him, and it had worked. She didn't move when he moved closer to her, or when he placed his forearm next to her head. If he moved any further forward, they would be touching, and yet she did not flinch.

She hopes her eyes don't show her uncertainty, even though she grew more nervous the closer he got, and she arched an eyebrow as if to bait him again. It did surprise her when he pressed her against the rock. It surprised her more when he began nipping along her collarbone. For a moment, she was too caught up in the sensations to move, but then trailed her right hand up his torso, and clung to the back of his neck. Damn it, she didn't think this through, maybe he really was hunting her.

He certainly acted like it. My prey indeed. If interrogations were all done by him, she'd be okay with getting caught more. He certainly knew what he was doing, smiling against her skin like that. Yep, he was definitely hunting her instead.

When she evaded his question again, he looked into her eyes almost like he was searching for something. This was a bad idea. His focus suddenly shifts to her lips, and suddenly she can't breathe. He can't meant to....When he's a hair's breath away, she decides that that if she's going to die, she might as well steal the kiss while she's at it.

The second her lips touch his, he responds to the kiss, deepening it when she lets him. Both moan into it, and she can't help it when the lyrium reacts to him, like it was calling out for him alone. It wasn't that he called her beautiful that surprised her, it was how he said it, like he was describing a lost treasure. The lyrium made him look ethereal, as he looked into her eyes. Then his eyes shifted, as if he'd made a decision, and then he was back to kissing along her neck, want in his voice as he demanded her name.

Then, just as she told him, he was gone. Damn, that had been....Varric wouldn't believe this, even if she felt she could tell him who this was. She couldn't help but laugh into the night, as she thought about what had just happened. She had dared to steal a kiss from Fen'Harel.....and she wasn't dead yet. This could get interesting, or dangerous....probably both.

\-----------

 He shot up suddenly, breathing heavily and shaking, and covered the lower part of his face in shock. Everyone is staring at him, and then he realizes why. He's soaking wet, still in his bedroll, steam billowing off of him in waves. This most definitely could not have been the Fade, he knows that now, as if he really needed more proof. He is somehow moving to where she is.

 "So...what happened this time?" Cassandra asked, her lips twitching with the effort not to laugh at him.

"She is...calling across Thedas, not the Fade." He replied, looking away.

"And the reason you're all wet and steamy?" Lavellan asked, shaking with internal laughter.

"She was....being difficult....in the hot spring....refused to answer my questions." Solas answered, reluctantly. They were already having fun at his expense. "I tried....interrogating....jumped in...."

"Interrogating? Is that what we're calling it now?" Varric asked, laughing outright. "In Kirkwall we called it sweeping. Anything else happen, Chuckles?"

Solas was loathed to reveal that, and kept his silence. They would be leaving soon anyway. He would make sure not to speak of the dreams again. They were not dreams, and yet he was always well rested whenever he returned to himself. Solas cursed himself in this moment, for ever having created the spell to find her, to have it bring him to her when he had so much to do.

He could still taste her on his lips, feel the warmth of her skin on his own. She was intoxicating, a mystery to him, and he had so very many questions. She knew who he was, and had kissed him anyway, had actually **_stolen_** the kiss from him. Even now, he wanted to run his hands through her hair, like ink running through his fingers. He had questions about the lyrium lines all over her body too, but he already knew that kissing them tastes better than anything he knew, like fire in his blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have discovered that it takes forever to type up 8 pages by cellphone....mainly because I got too impatient to wait till I could get to my friend's internet. Love me. 
> 
>  
> 
> Summary for next chapter 
> 
> Solas is going to get teased so much, and Hawke takes a turn for the worse before things get better. You think this is one step forward, but this is Solas and Hawke here. Two very stubborn people refusing to listen to reason.


	3. Fear of the Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas is going to get teased so much, and Hawke takes a turn for the worse before things get better. You think this is one step forward, but this is Solas and Hawke here. Two very stubborn people refusing to listen to reason. Meanwhile, Varric has to figure out how to save his tunic.

Chapter 3

 

Lavellan didn't she believed it, considering that she had never seen Solas act so distracted before, but it made her smile nonetheless. She'd noticed that he was more than simply unsettled by his dreams, and had taken to riding in the back of the group. Solas had refused to speak of what had happened during his 'not dream', but she could see the evidence of it now. He'd turned his head slightly, as he was still trying to avoid conversation, and it had jumped out at her. On the back of his neck, there were five small crescent moon like marks…Hawke's fingernail marks in his skin.

Considering how secretive he'd been about all of this, Lavellan doubted that he even knew they were there. Before he'd woken up, he'd appeared perfectly normal, though she was going to have to tell him about those moans of his later. He'd jolted awake, sitting upright in his bed roll, looking absolutely flushed, and all of a sudden soaked to the bone. He'd put a hand to his face in shock, his eyes wide, as if to hold onto a kiss. You don't look like that without something having happened.

So, she rode next to him silently for a good portion of the day after that. They shared small talk for a good bit of the time. After a while, Varric moved away from his position that allowed him the best eavesdropping ability, and Cassandra appeared uninterested as usual. Creators, but those two were not subtle. Now was her chance.

“How was it?” She asked, quietly, not looking at him. When he didn't answer, she added. “You should know that your lips were bruised when you woke up this morning, and you have five fingernail marks on the back of your neck. So don't act like it didn't happen.”

“It should not have happened at all.” Solas replied, firmly, his face turning slightly pink. “It was a mistake.”

“It was that good then?” She giggled, lightly. Solas just sighed in frustration, and tried to look away.

“I will only hurt her, _lethal'lan_.” Solas said, after a while.

“Or she could be exactly what you need. Why is it that men always have to be so melodramatic about these things, practically throwing themselves on their own swords to protect the girl, when it's more of a partnership.” Lavellan went on, smiling.

“It was just a kiss.” Solas denied, still reserved. “It meant nothing, and it will not happen again.”

“From what Varric tells me, nothing with Hawke is ever ' _just_ ' anything.” Lavellan said, causing him to look over to her in curiosity and confusion. “She's practically her own force of nature, that woman, so there is a very real chance that it most definitely will… _happen_ …again.”

Solas sighed, almost in a resigned and yet refined sort of way, and said. “If it will help settle the bet, fine. Cassandra wins. I assume being caught by a stolen kiss in a hot spring qualifies as her romantic setting.”

“That depends on how Flint spins it when we find her.” Varric said, with a smirk, but handed Cassandra the coin anyway.

“It will not happen again.” Solas stated, in his usual scholarly manner. “It meant _nothing_.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Chuckles. We _all_ heard those moans you made last night.” Varric laughed, earning him a glare from the stoic like elf, which didn't faze him in the slightest.

Later on, Lavellan did not miss the way Solas turned his head slightly as he reached up to feel the marks he now knew Hawke had left behind, or the small upward tug his lips made as he thought of why they were there. He was intrigued by the woman they looked for, at the very least, though it was clear to her that he would fight it if pressed. Though his hand did not linger on the marks for long, the faint smile reappeared often throughout the rest of the day. She did not understand his reluctance to admit to what was happening, if only to himself. She was convinced it would most definitely happen again.

-

“Why do you keep showing up like this?” He heard, and spun around to face her. “Keep this up, and I might start thinking you can't resist me.”

She looked like she hadn't slept since the night before. The landscape around them was practically buzzing with magic, but she had no staff, and the lyrium in her skin wasn't active. He looked around the landscape, but could not see what she had done to it. The Mabari stood by her side, and though Solas was apprehensive, the dog only regarded him with mild curiosity. Alhasha didn't wait for him to answer, and looked beyond the ridge, where he assumed the templars would be coming from.

Solas thought for a moment, and then replied. “My apologies. I had not thought to return.”

“Well, at least you're honest about it.” She chuckled, slightly wincing from the wound on her shoulder.

“I mean no disrespect. I just…” Solas stated, trailing off.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that you know something about me no one else does?” She asked, with a grin as she looked back to him. He was intrigued. “There isn't a single person alive now, other than you, who knows what my name is; not even Varric, and he's my best and most awesome friend ever.”

“I find it hard to believe that I am the only one to know your given name.” Solas said, shaking his head lightly.

“You can always ask him, if you like.” She replied. “My family is dead, except for an uncle and one cousin that I know of, and everyone else just calls me Hawke.”

“A name for a name then.” Solas replied, with a respectful nod. “I am curious as to how you even discovered my true name, considering we have never met before this.”

An arrow shot into the area.

“I'd really like to talk more, but you're going to have to leave.” Alhasha insisted, her eyes suddenly alight as she began grinning like she had yesterday. “I have _guests_ to greet, and I do so hate to keep them waiting. It's rude, you know. Mother did teach me to be respectful, after all.”

-

When Solas woke up, he made a mad dash for his shoes. The others caught onto his hurried frenzy, and began to pack. What they did not expect was for him to get on his horse, and ride off without them. There was a certain urgency that fueled his actions when he realized that that crazy woman didn't have the time for them to slowly gather their things. He didn't exactly know what he was going to do, but he had to get there, he had to do _something_ _._

She was planning on going to head off a battalion of templars, with a busted up arm, and a Mabari, alone. He could already hear explosions rocking the place, and the distinct smell of powerful magic clung to the air like a blanket. At least Lavellan and the others were not far behind him. He did not have the time to lead them, and pushed the horse for all it was worth to get to the hill he had viewed before.

“Dammit, Chuckles, slow down!” Varric shouted, as he caught up to him.

“It's happening now!” Solas shouted, angrily, not bothering to stop or slow down. “She's going to be fighting a legion of red fucking templars alone, with a busted up arm, and a **_Mabari!_** ”

“Shit!” Varric cursed, suddenly turning just enough to shout at the others. “Pick up the pace! Flint's in trouble!”

Soon after, a backlash of magic was felt by the entire party. Solas and Lavellan nearly fell off their horses with dizziness, but managed to stay upright. Cassandra leaped off of her horse when she got there, and ran towards where they felt the surge in magic. Everyone followed after, and soon were surrounded and being attacked by templars, though they seemed more mindless than usual. When a whistle sounded somewhere above them, it surprised the templars into looking to the sound; and as Solas looked to it as well, he stopped moving entirely, trapped by the vision he saw, his jaw hanging open.

She stood there, openly wearing the mask of Fen'harel…and his shirt. When she leaped into the fray with them, no one had to ask who's Mabari that was that followed soon after. There would be no way Fen'Harel would ever charge into battle with a Mabari. He was inwardly relieved that they had found her at all. 

She did not talk to the party, but continued to slice and dice through the templars as they fought. The Mabari made up for the lack of an arm, but even so when the blade breaks off in a templar gut, Solas moved to put his staff in between her and the next templar…Or he would have, if that exact templar hadn't been blown to bits…Without a staff, without an incantation, the woman had simply wiggled her fingers and destroyed a templar. Throughout the fight, he could not help but catch glimpses of her magic.

She fought with it like it were a physical thing, a weapon, moving it about the battlefield and channeling it how she wanted. Magic lashed out on all sides to strike like a whip, and rune circles could be seen all over the place. Half the time, he found himself chasing after her, making sure that the enemies she left behind didn't surround her again. What manner of mage fought like this, charging at their enemy head–on like the vanguard? There was something else too…she was…she was…was she laughing?

It wasn't a crazed laugh. She was laughing with merriment, enjoying the thrill of the fight. Magic crackled in the air all around them, and he swore to himself at one point he saw her glow with an ethereal blue light, even brighter than before, as if she were lyrium itself…as if she were _magic_ itself. When he saw her glow like that, he was instantly surprised to see her reach _into_ the armour of a templar, and pull out his heart. She was darting across the battlefield before he could catch up to her.

“She sure is something, isn't she!” Varric called out, with a smile, firing another bolt from 'Bianca'.

“She's foolish, is what she is.” Solas grounded out, sending a bolt of lightning through a templar that was a little too close to Lavellan. “Wait…Why isn't she moving anymore?! _Alhasha? Alhasha!_ ”

She didn't respond, but the magic around her did. It wanted them to be safe from it, he was somehow sure of that. Solas and Lavellan had just enough time to put a barrier up before Alhasha blast out a wave of destructive magic. It destroyed the last of the templars, and with that she lifted the wolf's skull up to reveal her smiling face. As tired as she looked, she still managed to pull Varric in for a one armed hug.

“So, did you miss me, Bianca?” She asked, grinning like a fool, looking to the crossbow.

“Don't get too sentimental, Flint. You know how she blushes.” Varric replied, returning the smile. “Come, meet your rescue team. This is Lavellan. She's great for source material, just like you. They're calling her the Herald of Andraste.”

“I've heard the stories. How come she doesn't get griffons?” Alhasha asked, teasingly. “The Herald of Andraste should definitely have a griffon.”

“Somehow, I make due with small giants and high dragons.” Lavellan said, with a snort and a grin. “If we team up, maybe I can get a griffon too.”

“Only if I can get a dragon.” Alhasha mused, making Lavellan laugh.

“Deal.” Lavellan agrees, jovially.

“This is Seeker Cassandra Pentagast.” Varric said, moving on with the introductions. He barely got through saying the last name before Cassandra was punched square in the face.

“What in the void was that for?” Cassandra growled, holding her nose.

“That was for stealing my best friend, and then torturing him for days on end. Yeah, I heard about that too.” Alhasha snapped, then held her hand out to help Cassandra up. “Thanks for being here, and helping him save my crazy ass, anyway.”

She sees him then, snapping her fingers to get the mask to disappear, and quickly hugs him the best she can. It is one he returns, though he can hear Varric snickering in the background. She does not seem to mind, and so Solas ignores the dwarf. It is comforting to stand here in this way. When she finally does back away, she is smiling at him.

“ _Na_ _ane_ _vaer._ ” She whispers to him. **_You_ _are_ _real._**

“ _Ar dirthem na_.” He replies, into her hair. **_I told you._**

“What was that about the kiss meaning nothing, and this never happening again?” Varric asked. Alhasha looks at him with hurt in her eyes, though it only lasts for a moment, and she gently backs away from him completely.

“We should get out of here before anything else shows up.” Solas suggested, now cross with the dwarf. “The Veil is thin here.”

“Really? I thought it was a bit _wobbly_ myself.” Lavellan said, with a straight face.

“No, no. It's much too _wiggly_ for that.” Cassandra said, sternly, continuing.

“And here I thought it was just fat.” Alhasha said, sparing no amount of sarcasm, before the three women busted out into laughter.

Solas looks between the three of them, practically fuming as he's trying not to react, but even that makes them laugh harder as they make their way. It seems that now that the three of them will become fast friends. They make their way back to camp, but by then Alhasha has grown quiet. She's not joking with them anymore, and sits with her back resting against a tree. The Mabari comes and sits next to her, putting his head in her lap.

“Why haven't you healed this yet?” Solas asks, his voice low as he crouches to look at the wound, trying in vain to ignore the Mabari.

She replied, breathing a bit heavy. “I guess in all the excitement…I forgot about it.”

“Where did you get that mask? It doesn't belong to you.” Solas asked, as he worked on undoing the bandages.

“Actually, it does, considering it bonded to me.” She replied, her eyes closed as she rested her head against the tree too. “It was sent it to me for my birthday one year…Scared the Void out of my friends…confessed to wanting to keep me safe…that it loved me…and then bonded with me.”

That made him pause for a moment, before returning to the bandages. The mask had bonded to her, loved her even? Well that certainly complicated things, as he knew it would most likely never want to be parted from her now. He had unfortunately had to sever the bond he'd forged with it, in order to keep it away from his enemies when he'd gone into his weakened state. His people were suppose to keep it safe.

“This wound looks bad, _Alhasha_.” Solas stated, quietly, trying not to let her know how worried he was. Something was wrong, the wound was refusing to be healed, his magic doing nothing. “I don't understand…My magic is being rejected. I can't heal this as I am now…( _He took a quick sniff of the bandages she'd been wearing, and shot her an alarmed look. How could he have missed it?!_ )…I thought you said there was no poison. You've been hit with Magebane! **_Again?!_** How could you fight with your magic, if you'd been hit with that again?”

“…I said I didn't think I could smell any poison. That shit messes with a person, you know. As for what I did today, if I can think it, I can do it…within reason or consequence.” She revealed, though the pain made her a bit snippy.

“You can fight through _**magebane?"**_  Solas wondered.

“Not always, and when I do I have to push back hard, like I'm walking up rapids.” She admitted. “It isn't easy, but to see the look on a self righteous templar when they see their tricks don't work, is worth it. I think…it may have cost…a bit too much this time. They used almost as much as they did before…I wasn't really able to before, till most of it burnt out. The only reason I was able to…this time, I think, is that…I was _really_ **_really_** angry…and in a hurry…I wanted to find you…I shouldn't have pushed so hard, I know…”

“We can at least redress the wound, till it burns out.” Solas replied, and went to leave to get the supplies, but she grabbed his upper arm, and he stopped in surprise.

“A name…I need a name.” She said, with a soft smile, though her eyes didn't quite meet his…and… _Was she blushing?_ “Something to call you…other than a name…I should not know…that you may not even…want me to say.”

“Solas.” He replied, once again caught as her soft laughter reached him.

“Solas…It suits you.” She stated, with a kind smile.

“I will return in a moment.” Solas said, reassuringly, and she nodded before letting him go.

-

He'd never seen Flint look that pale before, and she'd been pale enough already. She had been talking with Solas, but it looked like she was barely even aware of him, till the quiet elf tried to leave. Out of respect, and a bet, ( _Mainly the bet_ ) he did not listen in on their conversation. Lavellan was sneakier than he would have given her credit for, making that bet, ensuring that the two would have a private moment. Solas walking over to them gave him the opportunity to check on their progress.

“How is she?” Varric asked, truly concerned for his friend.

“They hit her with Magebane. _Again_. That was what was on the arrow from before. She had said she didn't think it was poisoned, but I should have known. Magebane isn't **_technically_** labeled as a poison, but it hurts a mage all the same.” Solas said, angry at himself, getting his supplies. “I've never seen such a high level of concentration of it like this till her.”

“I'll help. That woman has pulled my ass out of the fire more times than I can count.” Varric replied. “If there's anything I can do, let me know.”

“You can tell me about her magic.” Solas asked, as the two walked over to Flint. “It will keep you from worrying too much.”

“Her magic? What do you want to know?” Varric asked, not sure what he could tell him.

“I saw something, and I do not know what to make of it.” Solas admitted, setting his things down, and getting to work on the wound. “She did a particular bit of magic, and when she did, her eyes flashed a brilliant light just for a moment. Have you seen this before?”

“Not often, and at first, I thought it was a trick of the light.” Varric answered, not sure if this was helping to distract himself or Solas.

“It is old magic, one I thought lost to this world long ago. I have only seen memories of it in the Fade.” Solas said, getting into his explanations and his work. “Tell me, do you know her age?”

“No, not really. Does this have something to do with the magic you asked about?” Varric asked, curious.

“Maybe. There are very few who would have been able to teach her such magic, and depending on how old she is, and how much power she holds, she may be the only one left.” Solas explained.

“All I know is that she's technically a hedge mage, taught by other hedge mages. Her father escaped the Circle before she was born, and she picked up what knowledge she could from other mages as they traveled.” Varric stated, as if this explained everything. “Her family traveled a lot. The whole Chantry capturing apostates thing, putting them in Circles and such, you can imagine.”

“She looks like she's passed out again. No, _No_ , _**No!**_ …something's not right…” Solas said, as he worked to clean and change the bandages. “…Hawke…Dammit, Hawke, wake up… _Alhasha!_ ”

-

“We have to get her back to Haven… _ **Now**._ ” Solas insisted, and made to get his horse again. “She's fading too quickly, and I don't have the supplies here to deal with that.”

Cassandra was of the same mind set, but it seemed that whatever was happening to the Champion was affecting Solas more than she'd realized. It had been a bit of harmless fun, betting like she had, but this was serious. He'd never even met this girl, other than the meetings in his dreams, and yet he was already acting the way a lover would. For something that he'd insisted had meant nothing, that kiss was starting to look like a lot more than he'd ever admit. Camp was packed up, thanks to the hurried frenzy of earlier, so they would not need to stay any longer.

“Cassandra, if you please.” Solas said, imploring her, sitting on the horse.

Without a word, Cassandra turned and gathered up Hawke in her arms. The woman was surprisingly light, and she had no trouble lifting her up to give to Solas. Once the woman was situated in the saddle, with one of his arms around her, Solas began to travel without them. Cassandra took the time to send a messenger crow to Liliana, informing her that they had found Hawke and that the woman was injured. They left shortly after that, not surprised that the Mabari had followed after Solas.

“So…are we going to place bets on how long it takes him to figure this out?” Varric asked, breaking the silence. “If this isn't one of those drawn to a kindred soul deals, I'll eat my tunic.”

“I'll go 3 silver that says he'll figure it out before she does. He may know already.” Lavellan said, with a giggle. “Knowing him, he'll deny it, and push her away too.”

“What's with the small numbers there, Lightning?” Varric asked, looking over to her as they traveled.

“I'm not use to betting with money.” Lavellan admitted. “Let me ease into it.”

“I'll go 5 that says she'll figure it out before he does.” Cassandra interjected. “That seems more in line with her personality.”

“So what's the bet, Dwarf?” Lavellan teased.

“I'll go 8 silver that says they'll bottle themselves up before admitting their feelings when they realize what whatever this is is turning into.” Varric replied.

-

There was no stopping for the night this time, but he made sure to give the horse small breaks so as not to over tax it. The Mabari followed close behind, and though it annoyed him, it also was endearing to know that she could command such loyalty. She did not wake, and it was all he could do to get her to drink a bit of water every so often. The healing magic he poured into her did almost nothing. It was going to take a lot more to burn out that amount of Magebane, and he still wasn't sure how it was possible for her to have fought through it in the first place, let alone how she could handle having two high doses of it in her system so close together without dying.

-

Cullen could hardly believe it, as he saw Solas riding on a horse as he held Hawke. The normally reserved elf looked as if he hadn't eaten or slept in days. Cassandra had sent in a report that they had rescued Hawke, and that Solas would be riding in with her alone, but she didn't say anything about _this._ Then again, Cassandra was all about the bare bones of the matter. She was professional that way.

Solas looked like a man possessed, wild eyed and frantic. He should have known even Solas would be affected by Hawke in one form or another. The elf did seem frustratingly untouchable, focused only on the Fade and the state of the Veil, so it was strange to see him affected by a woman he couldn't have known for more than a day or so. Cassandra had mentioned something about a connection through dreams, but that was to be thought of at another time. Cullen moved towards Solas, just as Solas spotted him, intent on seeking help for the injured woman.

“Commander, take her straight to the healers. She's been given a large dose of magebane through the wound on her shoulder, and another large dose sometime before that…I'm not sure when. Templars…red lyrium.” Solas stated, urgently, as he stopped the horse. Not waiting for Cullen to answer, he quickly hands her over to him.

“You should follow me. You look like you could use a healer too.” Cullen replied, as Solas did this.

“I will be fine, Commander, though your concern is appreciated. Some rest and food, and I'll be as good as new.” Solas insisted.

The Commander did not miss the way Solas swayed slightly when he said that, but decided not to mention it. If he was right, he would be in no condition to object to the healers anyway. So he turned to make his way to the healers. Solas chose that moment to try and get off of the horse…and proceeded to fall to the ground. From there, Cullen shouted for someone to get Solas and take him to the healers.

-

He sat up slowly, holding his head as he groaned. The last thing he remembered was handing Alhasha over to the Commander before the ground came up to meet his face. At least, that's what it had felt like. When he looked around the modest building, his eyes landed on Alhasha, and he released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. They'd really made it then.

This madness had to stop. Just because she bore the mark didn't mean he had no choice. He'd cast that spell years ago, in the hopes that it would shut up the others or lead him to the one meant for him, but that was not going to happen now. There was too much at stake now, a mistake to fix, and a world to correct. She did not fit into those plans. But even as he thought these things, he realized that he could not leave her alone either.

Something else wasn't right…the more his mood soured, the more distressed she looked. She was already that connected to him? Checking her forehead confirmed that she was running a fever, so he found some wash clothes and put a simple cooling spell on them before placing them on her forehead. Even when unconscious, she leaned into his touch. He tried not to think about what that meant.

The wound on her shoulder seemed to be healing well already. The magebane was working itself out of her system, but with such a high dose, he had no idea what it would do to her. Noticing her bangs were slightly in her eyes, he brushed them away tenderly, surprising himself with the action. He would have to stay away from her, he knew. With her here now though, he had no idea how that was going to happen.

Thinking back, he tried to remember why he'd ever cast that spell. He'd been so foolish, creating a spell to find someone that could not possibly exist, just to shut the others up. He'd created a list of impossible traits and abilities, convinced that no _one_ person could ever possess them, and cast the spell. For the immediate purposes, it had done what it was suppose to do, which was fool the others into thinking he was actually looking for someone. Now he sat here, many years later, staring at the spell coming into fruition.

She was already proving to hold many of the qualities that he had put to the spell. More than once, she had already surprised him. She had the ability to keep him on his toes with her wit and charm, though he was loathed to admit it to himself. There was a fierce determination he could see in her eyes, though he imagined he hadn't seen anything yet in that regard. He wondered how many other qualities this woman possessed of the spell he'd cast, and wondered also if he was willing to risk his own goals to find out.

-

“The way I see it, Chuckles, you have two choices.” Varric said, as he entered the room, not missing the way Solas's hand jerked away from his friend's face as he looked away from the girl. “Either you read the book; and trust that I didn't embellish the shit out of it, which I did. Or you could just ask her yourself, and get to know the woman.”

“What makes you think there isn't a third option?” Solas asked, not yet looking over to him.

“Well, I suppose you could just ignore her, and be a total ass about it.” Varric replied, sarcastically. “She'll see right through your shit, though, but what do I know? I'm only her best and most awesome friend ever. Everyone saw how hurt she was when I revealed what you'd said. I had meant it as a joke, but how she took it is very telling. The sooner you realize what's happening, the easier this will be.”

“Child of the Stone, you have no idea what is happening. I can not, will not, get involved with this girl.” Solas stated, and got up to walk away.

“Come on, Chuckles, I bet my tunic on this. My _tunic_ , Chuckles. Don't make me eat my tunic. I don't want indigestion.” Varric whined, halfheartedly.

“I suggest you get started then, Child of the Stone.” Solas said, pointedly, as he walked out. “Maybe a bit of Ale will help it go down more smoothly.”

Varric looked up to the ceiling, and sighed. He had no idea why his best friend had reached out to the most frustratingly aloof elf he'd ever met, but she was in for one hell of a fight. If everything panned out the way he'd bet it would, he'd have another epic saga for his friend fictions. In the meantime, he was going to have to convince two suddenly very bet happy friends that he would not have to eat his tunic. Giving it up as a lost cause for the time being, he left as well.

“There's no way I'm eating my tunic.” He grumbled to himself.

-

She didn't see him when she woke back up, though she wasn't sure why she expected to. What Varric said had hurt, and worse, Solas hadn't denied it. Then again, why would he? They didn't know each other at all, and she'd been responsible for stealing the kiss in the first place. She was just glad that she was feeling a bit better, and that she could get going soon.

“Don't even think about it, Flint.” Varric's voice stopped her cold. She had been about to look for her things again, and make her way to somewhere else. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? Chuckles rode for three days straight with no sleep to get you here in time. He said he'd never seen that much concentrated Magebane before, and we weren't even sure you'd survive.”

“Running's a bit of a habit now, I suppose.” Hawke replied, in apology. “I've been at it since the hiding spot got blown. I'm sorry, Varric.”

“I'm just glad you're alright, Flint.” Varric admitted. “Promise me no more stupid decisions.”

“Yeah…about that…” Hawke replied, scratching the back of her neck.

“If this is about the hot spring incident, I know.” Varric said, interrupting her. “Not only do I know, I've placed bets.”

“I doubt you know what I know.” She teased.

“Why do I feel like this is a conversation best had by someone who is not me?” Varric asked, with a light chuckle.

“Because it is.” She said, with a bit of a grin, before looking thoughtful. “Varric, what do you do when you discover someone's secrets without intending to do so? And it's a big secret, like a really big secret. What do you do?”

“A secret that big could destroy you if you don't have someone to talk to about it, the one who's secret it is would be best. Barring that, keep it. The person will be suspicious, and watch your ever move at first, but eventually they'll trust you enough to talk about it with you.” Varric replied, after a moment. “I should have figured Chuckles would have secrets that big.”

“I never said it was him.” Hawke objected.

“Didn't have to.” Varric teased, wearing the biggest grin ever.

 


	4. Confessions of a Wingman

Chapter 4

 

The place that they gave her was near the apothecary, which was good, because she wasted no time in trying to work with him. The guy didn't really want to give up a corner space to her, but eventually gave in. The two often talked about various recipes for different potions, and more than once the apothecary was surprised by what she put in them. She started gathering things for him right away, and brought in extra herbs so she wouldn't be using up all the stock. She was glad to be in a stable place again, and didn't want to feel like a freeloader.

She'd started helping the healers too. She'd take extra herbs over to them, any potions she thought they could use. Working in Anders' clinic for as long as she did, helped give her the experience to help here. Hawke needed to keep herself busy, so she wouldn't feel suffocated by Solas. The man was always watching her, just out of eyesight she knew, as if waiting for her to reveal who he really was.

-

He had been steadfastly ignoring her, while also watching her. She had stopped by with cookies earlier, but he had turned her away. It would be better for her to hate him. It would make things easier, and he would be able to ignore her, focus on his goals. The hurt flashed through her eyes almost too quickly for him to catch, but then she smiled and walked away. 

"Hey, did you get those cookies Flint made, Lightning?" Varric asked, jovially. "Best cookies ever."

"That's actually why I'm out here." Lavellan said. They must be heading to see Alhasha, he thought to himself. 

"Did you notice that there were some of them that were a little better than the others?" Varric asked, confused.

 "Yeah. She talked to me, asking for advice." She replied. Suddenly, there was a knock to his door.

He started for a second. They were there to talk to him? Had that woman said something to the Herald? Wait, why did he care? Calming himself, Solas opened the door to greet them.

"You ass." That was actually the first time Lavellan had ever offered to insult him, and he just stood there with his mouth agape. 

"I'm sorry?" He replied, more than a little confused.

"You should be. Hawke asked for advice on how to talk to you, told me she had a question to ask, and she wasn't sure how to go about it." Lavellan replied, crossing her arms in front of her. "She needed an elvish word translated, only I couldn't translate it when she asked me."

"And the cookies?" Solas asked, warily.

"Bribery, of course." Lavellan admitted, with a laugh. "She said you're intimidating, and considering she can face down most anything without blinking, that's saying something."

"I might not have been of the best frame of mind when she stopped by." Solas replied, before turning to close the door behind him on his way out. "If I may ask, what was the word she needed translated?"

"Evanuris." Lavellan said, not noticing when Solas held his breath to keep from reacting.

"That is-" He began.

"Nope. Don't tell me. Tell her." Lavellan insisted, and then turn around and left.

"Flint is at the healers tents, if you really want to know, Chuckles." Varric added, before he too left.

Indeed, she was at the healers tents. Why she was arguing with Chancellor Roderick, he did not know. Upon his arrival, the man in question pointed at him and demanded his arrest too. Then again, Roderick said that about the whole of the Inqusition. This was nothing new.

"So help me, you angry old geezer. If you don't hold still, I will make you!" Alhasha growled, poking Roderick in the chest as she said it.

"You will keep you magic to yourself!" He shouted back.

"Fine!" She shouted back. "Have a cookie!"

Before anyone could say a word, Alhasha had shoved a cookie into the man's mouth. It only took a moment before the man passed out. The Commander had to catch him. Once he placed the chancellor onto one of the cots, Alhasha got to work. She listened to the man's heart for a moment, then moved away and began working on putting together a tea for him.

"You were right about his heart, Cullen." Alhasha stated, sounding tired. "The man won't slow down for anything."

"I could say the same about you, Hawke." The Commander teased. "When was the last time you got any sleep?"

"Oh, you know me. I'll sleep when I'm dead." She replied, offhandedly. 

"You!.....You drugged me!" Roderick shouted, angrily.

"And I did it all without any magic at all." Alhasha cooed at him, then her eyes turned hard. "Now, you're going to drink this tea every day, or so help me I will shove it down your throat myself. You pass out like that again, and that won't be just a threat."

"Don't even think this will win me over." Roderick accused.

"Oh no. See, I want you to live. That way, when we prove you wrong, I can rub your face in it." She sassed right back. "You need to be living when that happens, otherwise proving you wrong won't be any fun."

Roderick took the box, and stalked out of the tent. Solas barely caught the small smile as Roderick passed him.

"Thank you for taking a look at him, Hawke." Cullen said, before leaving as well.

"My cookies weren't drugged, were they?" Solas asked, a bit amused.

"No. And they're gone." She said, curtly. 

"You asked Lavellan what Evanuris meant, but how did you come by that word?" Solas asked, his voice turning accusatory. 

"It came as part of a riddle, along with the mask." Alhasha answered.

"It was not meant for you." Solas said, now angry. 

"You're just angry it wants me and not you!" She spat, her eyes alight with anger.

"You have no idea what you're playing with!" He shouted.

"Ha! Like you're something special!" She scoffed. "You're just a spoiled child who wants a toy you've thrown away now that you see someone else playing with it."

He hadn't been paying attention, but with every shout or insult, they had stepped closed to each other until they were practically inches apart. 

"Oh!...um....Hawke, I.....perhaps I'll.....just ask later.....right.....later." The Commander stumbled over the words, having seen them as they are now.

Solas realized that they had both been glaring at the man, but when Cullen left, he turned to talk to Alhasha, only to find her gone. 

-

"Varric, I need to place a bet." Cullen announced, when he found the dwarf. "First off, what are the bets concerning Solas and Hawke?"

"Well, it's like this, Curly." Varric replied, smirking as he opened his betting book.

-

“Hey, Flint, got something for ya.” Varric said, as he walked up to her. She'd just walked out of the Apothecary's shop.

“What, another betting ring?” Hawke asked, with mock intrigue. “What are we betting on this time? How long it takes Roderick to explode? I can help with that. Maker knows that man needs a hot poker shoved up his backside.”

“Nothing like that…at least, not yet. Look.” Varric said, motioning someone over.

Her jaw actually fell open, a rare occasion in her life. Varric had found her things from Lothering that she'd had to stash away. She'd had to leave the box behind when she'd ran from the Tevinter mages. There was a part of her that had made peace with the fact that she would never see her family's things again. Varric just smirked, and directed the guy carrying her chest to where he needed to go.

“Varric, I…” Hawke tried to say, but words fell short.

“Don't worry, that face was worth it. I can use it for my next book.” Varric replied, with a bit of a chuckle. “And the champion's jaw fell to the floor in unspoken gratitude. She graciously offered to pay his tab at the Singing Maiden, for which the humble and yet devastatingly handsome dwarf with the amazing chest hair could not refuse.”

“Oh, but of course.” Hawke said, with a bit of a laugh herself. “Thank you, Varric.”

“Any time, Flint.” Varric replied, before leaving her to look over her things.”

-

“Would you mind if we spoke in private, Lady Hawke?” Solas asked, walking up to her after Varric had left.

“Of course. Would you mind coming inside then?” She asked, looking a bit absentminded. “It's just, Varric…What he did…I'll never know how he did it, but he found my family's things. I'd had to leave them behind…I'll never be able to repay him.”

“Of course.” Solas said, with a nod.

He'd seen her face when the dwarf motioned the guy forward with the case. She'd never thought she'd see it again, and whatever it held had a great emotional value to her. Of course the dwarf would have to play it up. It was what he did, and it always seemed to help misdirect people so they wouldn't see how much he'd really done. The two went inside her building, and she closed the door behind them.

“I wish to understand something.” He said, as he watched her as she worked to open the chest. “I have had time to think over what happened, and I have many questions.”

“Understandable. I have questions too.” She replied, with a soft smile. Her eyes were on the chest she'd finally managed to open, but he couldn't see what was inside.

"First, I wish to apologize." Solas began. "I had intended to speak with you about the word you were looking into, and I let things get out of hand."

"I'm not innocent in that either." She replied. "So, I apologize as well."

“You know who I was, who I am, and yet you haven't said anything to anyone…Why?” Solas asked, keeping his voice void of his curiosity.

“Should I have? It's not my secret to tell, and I understand not wanting to say anything for a while. People were very angry with me when it happened to me too. People are still angry with me.” She said, still not looking at him. She had begun to lovingly take things out of the chest, and place them around the room.

“…Happened to you too?” Solas asked, confused now.

“Varric told me you didn't read that book. Oh, I can only imagine he'd scarred you with Hard in High Town or something.” Alhasha said, with a bit of a laugh.

“Swords and Shields.” Solas admitted.

“My apologies.” She said, unable to hold in her laughter.

“My understanding of humans now was…minimal. He offered that book to help me see what humans were really like.” Solas stated, with a bit of a grimace. “Perhaps The Tales of the Champion might have been a better choice.”

“Well, in any case, I'm glad there is at least one person who has not read that book that I can talk to.” She admitted, surprising him. “Your opinions won't be coloured by anything you may have already read.”

“That is understandable.” Solas replied, looking thoughtful. “Now, about my question?”

“Oh, yes. I was technically the reason why the chantry building in Kirkwall blew up, killing several hundred people, and inadvertently causing the mage rebellion. People were very angry. Even though I didn't create the bomb, or place it, it was still my fault all those people died.” Alhasha explained.

He hadn't expected that.

“What…happened?” He asked, intrigued.

“Anders was already unstable.” She said, sounding tired as she sat down by the table. He followed suit. “Before I met him, he had already offered himself as a willing host to a spirit of Justice that had gotten stuck on this side of the Veil. It's not the first instance I've heard of that happening, and it should have been fine, but…The anger that Anders already had changed them both, and Justice slowly became Vengeance. I was too preoccupied with my own troubles to realize my friend needed help, and by the time I realized it, he was already delusional.”

“You are correct that if his anger had not been an issue, the merge would have been a beneficial one to them both.” Solas said, wanting the story to continue.

“He was running himself into the dust, helping with the mage underground, and running the clinic to help the refugees that had fled Fereldan during the Blight.” Alhasha explained, with a sigh. “I thought I had him convinced to take a rest, to not work so hard. After all, you can't help someone if you're dead. He came to me one day, said he found a way to separate himself from Justice, that it was an old Tevinter potion. It felt off, but he's my friend…I trusted him.”

“There may be a way to separate him from the spirit, but there is no Tevinter potion I know that does this.” Solas said, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Fenris was suspicious of him too, but I didn't listen. I helped him gather the ingredients anyway. Later on, he'd asked me to distract the Grand Cleric for him. He didn't say what it was for, just that it would help the mage underground, and I wanted to help. So I did.” Alhasha admitted, shaking her head. “The building blows up while I'm trying to stop the Knight Captain and the First Enchanter from killing each other. The Knight Captain forced my hand. She was going to kill the entire Kirkwall Circle for something a single apostate did. She's a separate and yet closely tied mistake, but I'll get to that if you want to hear it.”

“Maybe some other time.” Solas allowed, kindly.

“The thing is, if Anders had been honest with me from the start, I would have helped him anyway.” Alhasha admitted, surprising him again. “I would have tried to get out the Grand Cleric and the others quietly before they could be killed, but I would still have blown up that building.”

“Perhaps that is why he lied. You say this mage is your friend. He would know that you would do that.” Solas said, after a moment. “It surprises me that we share that kind of a mistake, though in this instance, mine comes without the lying friend. It still comes with the blown up building, the death toll, and my magic being the cause. Mine was more about miscalculation.”

“I imagine that is not the only mistake we share, in any case.” She said, going back to the chest for a moment. “Come here. I want to show you something I think you will appreciate.”

Solas did as she wished, and walked over to the chest with her. He stood a respectful distance away, so that he would not see inside the chest. It kept anything else she had in there from his eyes, but it meant she would have to take out what she wanted him to see. She pulled out a mage staff of intricate make, elvhen crafted, a good sized ruby at it's top…from the time of Arlathan. Yet another surprise from her.

“This belonged to my father. He said that it has been passed down the line since ancient times. I never knew whether to believe him, or if he was just telling stories because he knew I loved to hear them. He'd had to part with it before I was born, and stories were all he had to share of it…a mistake of his own that became one of mine.” She said, running her fingers over the elvhen designs. “I don't need a staff for my magic, not really, but I can't seem to part with it.”

“That is understandable. It belonged to someone important to you.” Solas replied, and held out his hand to take the staff. “May I?”

She let him, just like that. Did she really trust him this much? Knowing who he was, she knew he had betrayed before. The staff reacted to him, recognizing that he was of worth. He handed it back to her after a moment.

“It has been well cared for. Do you know who that staff belonged to originally?” Solas asked, and when she shook her head no, he continued. “I do not know if you are a descendant of hers or not, but that is the staff of Andruil. It is intriguing that you should possess it, that it recognizes you as one of worth.”

“Why is that?” She asked, looking confused.

“Because the Hawk was beloved to her.” Solas replied, in his scholarly manner. “Which makes me wonder, just how old are you, Lady Hawke?”

“I thought it was against the rules to ask that of a lady. Besides, I'm nowhere near ready to reveal that kind of secret, Solas.” She said, blushing. “Maybe next time.”

“Indeed.” Solas said, with a slight bow, before exiting her building.

-

Varric had recommended that she talk with Liliana, Cassandra and Lavellan, and so that was the reason she found herself in a little corner of the Singing Maiden some time later. The four of them got along great, and it almost reminded her of hanging out with Isabella, Merrill, and Aveline at the Hanged Man. They pumped her for every detail of what happened at the hot springs. Cassandra thought it was wonderfully romantic, and Lavellan couldn't be happier for her new friend, but there was something that they just didn't understand. She'd have to tell them in order to get their advice.

“Alright, you three, I'm about to hit you with a secret I haven't even told Varric.” She said, her voice low, causing them to lean in closer. “I didn't just steal the kiss at the hot spring. I stole my _first_ kiss at that hot spring.”

“WHAT?! But that's not possible!” Shouted Cassandra, causing several people to look over at them, including Solas. She waited till everyone went back to what ever they had been doing before she continued. “Hawke, I don't understand. That doesn't make any sense.”

“I wasn't the oldest of three siblings, like the book says. I was the youngest.” Hawke admitted, her voice low. She noticed Solas eyeing them with suspicion from time to time, but he was too far away to hear her over the crowd. “Bethany never had the mindset for leadership, and Carver was a tit. Father knew that I would have to lead them eventually. Even Mother knew that, before she died. Do you know how old I was when we got to Kirkwall? I was _twelve_ _._ ”

“So how did you make yourself look older?” Lavellan asked, curious.

“Father gave me a thin chain bracelet that would make me look older, so that people would respect me. No one respects a kid telling them what to do, especially when the kid is right.” Hawke replied, holding up her right hand. The chain was barely visible, and even then they had to squint to see it. “I just ended up wearing the thing for years, even after everything happened.”

“So how old are you really?” Liliana asked, her voice low too.

“Ummm…I was twelve when we got to Kirkwall, thirteen after the year of working with the Red Iron, sixteen when I dueled the Arishok, and nineteen when Anders blew up Kirkwall's Chantry. So, I'd say I'm either twenty or twenty one, maybe older, I'm not sure. The months sort of ran together on the run, you know.” Hawke said, thinking through it all.

“You mean to tell me you're twenty one, and you stole your first kiss from _Solas?_ ” Cassandra asked, leaning in so she could be heard better.

“Hey! You try leading a bunch of crazy people into a functional team, defending a city, and constantly having to do someone's bidding, and see if you have time for a social life in all that.” Hawke huffed, though there was no anger in it. “Mother was set to try and marry me off to one of those dandies of Kirkwall's noble class, and I was not having that. I'd have rather died first. Most of them didn't even know which end of a sword was the pointy end.”

“I understand.” Cassandra said, begrudgingly, looking pensive. “Why do you still look older than twenty one?”

“The bracelet is still working, Cassandra.” Hawke reminded them, pointing to the bracelet. “Like I said, it's been a long time since I took this thing off.”

“So why did you kiss him anyway?” Liliana asked, wide eyed and intrigued. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“This is so embarassing…I thought he was there to kill me.” She admitted, That was not the answer they expected, and it sent them laughing. Hawke's face grew red in embarrassment, and she began rambling. “He just kept…showing up, and that only usually happens when someone wants to kill me, so…I figured I'd steal a kiss from the mysterious handsome guy before he killed me, kind of a last request. I feel like an idiot, please just ignore me for the rest of forever.”

She face planted on the table and stayed that way.

“Hawke, this isn't a bad thing, it's just unusual.” Cassandra said, gently. “Believe me, I know what it's like to let duty get in the way of living your life.”

“It's just that…I'm good at helping others find and keep their relationships. I've never had one of my own, not like that. There was my family to watch over, mother to take care of, and the Viscount kept asking me to field contact with the Arishok.” Hawke mumbled, her face still on the table. “He's dead set on ignoring me now, I just know it, except when he wants to randomly ask questions about me before getting back to ignoring me, and I don't know what to do. I've never been in this situation before. I've never _wanted_ anyone before. Anyone that ever went after me has either been a dandy or crazy as all fuck. I don't know what to do with a good looking possibly rational not crazy man who seems interested but ignores me.”

“Well, he keeps looking over here at you.” Lavellan whispered, like he could hear them. “And you said so yourself, he seems interested.”

“Oh, that? He's not staring because of that. I knew his name before he told me what it was, and he's trying to figure out how I did it.” Hawke mumbled.

-

He'd been watching them for the last few minutes. Ever so often he would hear his name mentioned over the noise of the crowd. While laughing was not the reaction he had expected, neither was her faceplanting onto the table. Some time later, the others left, and he had his chance. In the blink of an eye he moved over to her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her along to a more secluded space outside of the tavern.

“What the-” She nearly shouted, when he slammed her into the wall, before his hand was on her mouth.

“You _lied_ _._ ” He hissed, his body pressing into her own. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you.” Slowly, he moved his hand away from her face.

“Because I didn't lie, _na'masa_. ( _you ass_ )” She said, indignant, her voice pained. “They wanted to know what happened at the hot spring, so I told them.”

“Explain.” He demanded, not convinced.

“They're _girls_ , Solas, _romance_ loving girls. What do you _think_ I told them?” Alhasha growled. “I told them that a mysterious handsome guy kept showing up, and I thought he was going to kill me, so I stole a kiss as a last request. I told them that you were staring at me in the tavern because I knew your name before you told me what it was, and you were trying to figure out how I did it.”

That caught him off guard, just long enough for her to turn the tables around and pin him to the wall instead.

“So the next time you wanna pin me up against a wall, you better kiss me or kill me, because if you pull this stunt again, I'll remove what makes you a male. Got it?” She growled, angrily.

She didn't give him time to say anything, shoved herself away from him, and began stumbling back to her building. He just stood there for a moment. She hadn't revealed who he was, just gossiped with girls about a stolen kiss in a hot spring. A sudden cough caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Sister Nightingale with a smirk on her face. He would have moved away, but it was like her eyes held him where he was.

“So that's what you're into.” She said, her voice held a bit of a sly tone to it. “My bet is looking better all the time, Solas. I knew you were one of _those._ ”

“One of…those?” Solas asked, at a loss for anything else to say.

“You're into the rough stuff.” She teased, but then her voice began to hold an edge to it. “But you should know something, Solas. You drove her into a nail someone was stupid enough to leave sticking out of that wall. There's blood.”

Solas looked to the space where she had been, and discovered that she had been right. There was a nail there, long enough that it could have pierced her lung, and there was blood on the ground. Without a word to Sister Nightengale, Solas cursed and headed off to find Alhasha. If he could get to her in time, he could heal her. Her death would not be another of his mistakes.

He found her just inside her building, door open, sprawled out onto the floor as she struggled to breathe. Cursing to himself, he picked her up, and closed the door. Working quickly, he placed her on the bed, and ripped the back of her shirt. He'd gotten there in time to heal the worst of it, and now there was only a mildly angry dot that would turn into a scar later. When he was done, he made up a quick poltice to put on her back.

As he began to dab the concoction onto her, he took notice of her back. He'd ripped the shirt to better see the wound, but now he saw more than that. He saw the lyrium markings there, the whipping marks they surrounded like a beautiful cage, and a rather large scar that went almost to her spine. Shit, wasn't he suppose to be ignoring her? This was not going at all like he thought it would.

-

“Don't move just yet.” She heard a voice say. “I still have to remove the poltice and see if the wound needs to heal any more. _Ir abelas._ ( _I'm sorry_ )”

“Solas.” She mumbled, recognizing who was talking to her.

“Yes. _Ir abelas, Alhasha._ ” He said, speaking softly as he worked. “I should not have reacted so harshly to you. It is my own fault for trying to listen in on a conversation I was not invited into, and jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

“Another mistake we share.” She replied, softly. “What happened?”

“I shoved you into a nail when I shoved you against that wall. It pierced your lung. If I had found you any later, you would be dead now.” Solas admitted, trying to keep his mind on the work. “The lung is a delicate organ. I'm sorry this is taking so long.”

“That's fine. This isn't the first time a friend has injured me on accident.” She said, her voice trailing in and out. “I feel woozy.”

“ _Tel'telsila.(_ _Don't worry_ _)_ ” He said, softly. “You'll be fine.”

“It would be ironic…for a nail to do…what an Airshok's blade could not.” She said, before blacking out again.

-

“Solas, what's got you in such a bunch?” Varric asked, a bit cross.

He'd heard what had happened to Flint, and he wasn't happy about it, but he couldn't really say much. Solas had realized what had happened, and had gone to her aid. So, he was trying to give the elf a break. This didn't mean he couldn't rib the guy a little first. It was just, the way Solas looked, it was like he was already angry about something.

“An Arishok's blade.” Solas said, half demanding. “What did she mean by that?”

“Why don't you just read the book?” Varric asked, wondering himself.

“And have you miss out on a chance for story telling, Master Tethras?” Solas said, with a slight smirk. “Surely not.”

“What do you think, BarkSpawn? Should I give him another shot?” Varric asked, looking around Solas, who was surprised that the Mabari had followed him. The hound simply nodded, and then shambled away. “He really must think you're alright. Sit down. This is going to take some back story explaining.”

The problem with Solas was that he didn't want the whole story, just the explanation of the Arishok's blade, but a little back story was needed. So Varric talked about the qunari landing in Kirkwall, the deal with the gaatlok and Javaris, Fenris smoothing things over in the first meeting by speaking the qun to the Arishok and offering to kill the dwarf that lead them all on this wild goose chase, the constant visits, and so on. He talked about the buildup of tension between the Kirkwallers and the qunari there, the attempts to uproot them by fanatic elves, and finally the descent into madness by the Arishok. He spoke in detail about their fight through the city, dealing with First Enchanter Orsino and Knight Captain Meredith, and the entrance she made into the room of people about to die. By that point, Solas looked hooked.

Varric went over the conversation her and the Arishok had shared, how Isabela came barging in with the stolen relic, and the instant decision to dual over her life and the lives of those living in Kirkwall. He gave a beautiful, not that he was tooting his own horn or anything, description of the fight with the Arishok. When he finally got to the part where the Arishok managed to impale her on the great sword, Solas's jaw actually dropped. It was the most reaction Varric thinks he's ever seen from the elf outside of when Flint had all that magebane in her system, and he wished he had someway to capture the moment.

“Varric, you aren't telling that story again, are you?” Flint asked, with a half groan.

“Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies, Flint.” Varric replied, with a grin. “Chuckles here asked about the Arishok's blade.”

“I thought I was out of it, or I would have never mentioned it.” Flint teased, as she sat down. “At least tell me you didn't resurrect a griffon for me.”

“We haven't gotten to that part yet.” Solas threw in, with his usual scholarly tone. "I am sure he will mention it soon."

“This is an historic moment. Alert the Chantry! Chuckles told his first joke. I'm so proud.” Varric chuckled, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

“It has been known to happen, Master Tethras.” Solas replied, then turned to Flint. “You weren't suppose to get out of bed yet. Healer's orders.”

“Yes, well, healer's orders are only so good as long as they can be there to inforce them.” Flint said, arching an eyebrow as if daring Solas to say something about it. This is not the first time he has watched Flint give Solas a look like this, nor is it the first time he's watched Solas react like his mind was sent somewhere else because of it.

“If you two don't stop staring at each other like that in front of me, I'm going to start describing it in friend fiction format.” Varric warned, bringing them both out of it.

“I really should go lie down, I suppose.” Flint said, a bit of pink tinging her cheeks. “Varric, try not to bring too many griffons back for me. It will only make it less believable when you have to kill them all off again at the end.”

She left, BarkSpawn following after her. Both Solas and Varric watch after her as she goes, but Varric notes that it is Solas she looks back to after a moment. She blushes when she realizes she's been caught, and quickly walks on. Varric can't help but chuckle at this, as Solas has a slight blush to match her own. Those two were hopeless.

“Even after you nearly kill her, she's still drawn to you.” Varric stated, seriously. “Are you so dead set on ignoring her that you can't see that?”

“Master Tethras, I can't get her involved. I can't-” Solas began, but Varric cut him off.

“If this is about your secret, can it.” Varric said, earning him a surprised and angry glare from the elf. “I don't know what it is, Solas, and quite frankly I don't give a damn. When Flint woke up, she asked me what do you do when you discover someone's secrets without meaning to, a big secret. I can only assume she meant you. Whatever it is, Solas, she's kept it. She wouldn't reveal it even if threatened with being made tranquil. I know this, because she's almost had to go that far to protect the secrets of her friends…like where Anders is. She was almost made tranquil, and still wouldn't reveal where he is. They let her go, thinking she really didn't know, because no one goes that far to protect a secret. No one but her. I'd bet everything I own that she does know where he is, or knows how to find out, and still she didn't say anything. She probably wouldn't even tell me, and I don't want her to. Trust her, damn it, before you end up killing her with your paranoia.”

“You're not curious about what it is?” Solas asked, dubious. “You wouldn't try to squeeze information out of her using your friendship as guilt?”

“Of course I'm curious about it, especially after you say something like that to me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but that's not how our friendship works.” Varric insisted. “I'd be lying if I said I don't want to know, but she won't tell me till you tell her she can.”

“And if I never say she can?” Solas asked, looking doubtful and curious all at once.

“Then she never says a word about it to me.” Varric replied, pointedly.

“You have given me a lot to think about, Master Tethras. I will consider your words carefully.” Solas said, with a nod, and left.

“That elf is going to be the death of me and my tunic.” Varric grumbled, to himself.

-

After a rather exhausting mission with the Herald, Solas was on his way back to his hut when he saw her. Alhasha was hunched over, hiding behind a bush as she watched the Herald and the Commander talking…as she made snowballs. He could see small flashes of fire and ice magic in her hands, hardening and compacting the snowballs until they were just right. His curious nature refused to let this go, and he walked over to her. He didn't even bother trying to hide, and she didn't bother looking up at him.

“What are you doing, Lady Hawke?” He asked, bemused.

“Being a wingman.” She said, as if that explained everything. He sighed. That explained nothing.

“How does making snowballs aid you in this?” He asked, patiently.

“Right now, Lavellan is awkwardly flirting with the Commander. He has no idea, because he's awkward too, but these moments are important, and they can be awkward together.” She said, watching the couple, still making snowballs. “It is adorable.”

“And the snowballs?” He asked, inwardly sighing. When she was focused on something, it was hard to get her to explain it.

“This.” She said, before reeling back and hurling a snowball. It hit Jim square in the back of the head, and he fell face first into the snow, his report flying off in all directions. “That sneaky little bastard keeps showing up every time Lavellan and Cullen start talking. I swear I think he waits for it, either that or Liliana knows and sends him with reports at too convenient of a time in order to win some bet with Varric.”

“So you…pelt him with snowballs…to buy them time…so that they can awkwardly flirt with each other?” He asked, making sure he had it right.

“Yes.” She said, with all the seriousness of the world, right before she chucked another snowball. Jim had been trying to get up, he hit the show again.

Solas didn't know what made it start. Perhaps it was the seriousness of her face as she explained it, or the fact that she was honestly hitting a messenger with snowballs to give a couple some time to figure each other out, but something in him lost it. He fell to his knees next to her, and started shaking. He tried to hold it in, even going so far as to wrap his arms around himself, but the laughter was out before he could get around it. Alhasha actually took her eyes off of watching Jim for a moment, and stared at him as if she'd never seen him before.

“You wanna get him?” She asked, holding a snowball out to him.

She held it out to him like a peace offering or something, and his laughter subsided a moment in response to this. This woman was something else, that was for sure. He wasn't going to take it, but Jim looked to be on the move again, too close to the Commander to stop, but Solas quickly took the snowball and chucked it anyway…hitting the Commander in the side of the face instead. Cullen is shocked, angered, and Solas feels a little like a fish as his mouth opens and closes trying to form words. Lavellan looks like she's trying to hold in her laughter, when all of a sudden, Alhasha stands up from behind the bush where they had been.

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!!!” She shouts, and chucks another one at the Commander.

This makes Lavellan lose it, and she starts laughing. The Commander wastes no time, and chucks a snowball at her. Pretty soon, it's an all out war. People, who weren't even there, just showed up and started hurling snowballs at one another. Someone has compacted snow around Varric so well that he looks like his own snowman. For once, Solas feels bad for Roderick, seeing as how the man can't seem to stand upright without being pelted with snowballs from every location.

Somehow, Madam de Fer doesn't get a single snowball chucked at her, or they melt before they can. Liliana and Josephine had taken to teaming up against some of the more adventurous recruits. Sera and Blackwall had also teamed up, sending a flurry of snowballs towards anything that moved. A rather large snowball whizzed by him, almost hitting him in the face, and he looks over only to see Iron Bull already moving on to another target. A snowball hits Solas in the side of the head, and he reacts without thinking, sending one right back.

Alhasha can't stop laughing, and neither can he. Both of them take to running through the war zone, throwing snowballs as they can at anyone within range. They pass BarkSpawn on their way, looks like he's having the time of his life burying Jim in snow. They finally make it to a quiet and safe location, behind the Apothecary's shop, when Solas gets an idea.

He grabs her hand again, and puts her to the wall like last time. Only this time is different, softer somehow, especially considering that he has his hand back there in case of another nail. She's still smiling up at him, and he remembers what she said about being slammed into a wall like that. It's why he's done it, why he's nearing her too close again even though he knows he shouldn't. This time, the kiss is soft, slow, and still over too quickly.

“That was a bad idea.” He says, as if he's trying to convince himself.

“Probably.” She admits, and he smiles.

“Thank you…I haven't laughed like that…in a very long time.” Solas said, still happy from the snowball fight and the kiss.

“It doesn't take much, to remember that you can.” Alhasha said, then grinned. “Varric will want to mark this day on the calendar though. He'll call it 'Chuckles Chuckled Day', or something ridiculous like that.”

 


	5. The Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's gone back to ignoring her, but BarkSpawn isn't going to stand for it. It seems that neither will the rest of the group, and now it's time to spy on a war room meeting. Oh the things they'll learn, and the bets that will be settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in here is called "This Night" by Black Lab. You should google it for a listen, oddly soothing melody.

Chapter 5

 

After that day, he had reverted to trying to avoid her, and the feelings that were much too close to the surface again. The strange thing was that she hadn't sought him out about it either. She had fully immersed herself in life around Haven, and the people there seemed to love her. However unaffected she seemed to be by his absence, it did not prove the same for him. She had taken to singing in the evenings when she's working on her potions and things, when she thinks the noise of the tavern nearby will drown out her voice.

Whether she knows it or not, he can hear her. Some days, he finds himself standing out side of his building by the Apothecary's shop to listen to it. He wasn't sure when he had started actively doing that, instead of spending his free time traversing the Fade as he normally would. Sometimes she sings in Trade, other times in Elvhen, always songs he is unfamiliar with. That's where he is, strumming a simple tune on a shamisen, when she finally begins to sing a song he recognizes.

“ _Tamahn ane rahna…Ar ema tol…Tamahn'r ei an…Ar ema varem…Tamahn'r ei ghest…eil Ar elasa ra josa…Mala ra'n josal araaaa vir._ ”

**_There are things…I have done…There's a place…I have gone…There's a beast…And I let it run…Now it's running myyyy way._ **

“ _Tamahn ane rahna…Ar nulam…Sai tel'lanasta…Na tel'silaima…Tamahn'r ei lanun…Ra na sul'amem…Na sul'amem ra araaa vir._ ”

**_There are things…I regret…To can't forgive…You can't forget…There's a gift…That you sent…You sent it myyyy way._ **

_-_

Iron Bull stepped out of the Tavern, and into something he wasn't sure he was actually seeing. Solas was playing a simple tune on a shamisen, and Hawke seemed to be singing along to it. It didn't look like Hawke was really aware of it either, considering she sang quietly, and yet her voice rang out just enough to be heard above the music Solas played. Bull figured that if he said anything, they would stop whatever this was. Maybe he should get in on this betting ring Varric was starting up.

“ _Mai ama min era'vun…vila ra ematha em la ei dialathe…Ar eolasa ir'tel lanastan, y Ar nuven ei an era. Mai ama min era'vun…eil hama em dur sul vir… Ar eolasa ir'tel'lanastan, y Ar las ra Ar'shor ea lasem sulooo atisha._ ”

**_So take this night…wrap it around me like a sheet…I know I'm not forgiven, but I need a place to sleep. So take this night…and lay me down on the street…I know I'm not forgiven, but I hope that I'll be given sommme peace._ **

Wait, was Solas singing too? Bull honestly hadn't expected that, and just stood there. The two sang well together. It appeared that at least Solas was aware of what was going on, even if Hawke did not. Then again, Bull was sure he had seen Solas hanging around the apothecary's shop a lot more here recently, and wondered how often she sang while she worked.

“ _Tamahn ei kasti…ra Ar vae…Tamahn ane velaer…Ar ema dana…Tamahn'r torajaer…ra Ar tuem…y'Ar tuem ish'ala araaa vir._ ”

**_There's a game…that I play…There are rules…I had to break…There's mistakes…that I made…but I made them myyyy way._ **

“ _Mai ama min era'vun…vila ra ematha em la ei dialathe…Ar eolasa ir'tel lanastan, y Ar nuven ei an era. Mai ama min era'vun…eil hama em dur sul vir… Ar eolasa ir'tel'lanastan, y Ar las ra Ar'shor ea lasem sulooo atisha…sulooo atisha…sulooo atisha…_ ”

**_So take this night…wrap it around me like a sheet…I know I'm not forgiven, but I need a place to sleep. So take this night…and lay me down on the street…I know I'm not forgiven, but I hope that I'll be given sommme peace…sommme peace…sommme peace._ **

“Hawke?” Iron Bull called out. “Hawke, is that you?”

She whirled around faster than he thought possible, and in the process flung several glass vials everywhere.

“ _Etunash!_ ” Hawke shouted, in surprise. _**Shit!** _ “Bull, how long have you been standing there like that?”

“Long enough to know you and Solas sing well together.” Iron Bull remarked, with a smirk. Her face turned an even darker beet red. “Speaking of you and Solas, Boss wants you both for a mission.”

“Of course, Iron Bull. I shall be ready in a moment.” Solas stated, and went to put the instrument away. Iron Bull was going to ask how she hadn't noticed Solas there, but she just shook her head, and headed back to her room to get her things to travel.

“I thought I was imagining the music.” She mumbled, as she left.

-

Maybe having this particular group of people together was a bad idea. Lavellan had been thinking that maybe she could help Hawke with Solas, but the two seemed content to avoid each other, only speaking to each other when needed. Blackwall had been a good choice, but he and Sera grated on Solas's nerves. Needless to say, the group didn't seem to talk much after an argument broke out. Lavellan spent her time in deep thought after that.

Her mind kept coming back to Hawke. The woman did not act like any mage she knew, Circle or otherwise. She didn't carry a staff, had no need of one, and carried more weapons on her person than a rogue. She also acted more like Sera than she did someone that had saved a city state, and was just as stubborn as Solas. Lavellan shook her head, still unsure of how to help those two.

“Lavellan, we need to stop.” Hawke said, out of the blue, suddenly very tense. She shook her head from side to side slowly, as if listening to things they couldn't hear.

“The Veil is in a state of unrest here.” Solas remarked, argumentatively. “We should not linger.”

“It's not the Veil.” Hawke insisted. “Herald, we need to get out of here, **_now,_** or we're going to be overrun.”

“It's already too late for that.” Lavellan remarked. “Look.”

What they saw puzzled them. Mages and Templars fighting themselves and each other, bandits and the like fighting them. It was a free for all, and it was headed straight for them. There was no way around it. They would have to plow through, but it would be at a high price.

“Shit…Alright, Lavellan, I think I can get us through this mess…Sera, Blackwall, do you trust me?” Hawke asked, gravely, still looking at the chaos that was about to hit them.

“Of course, Hawke.” Blackwall insisted.

“Let's do somethin crazy, yeah?” Sera replied, with a wicked grin.

Before Lavellan could ask why Hawke would think to ask such a thing, that mask appeared over Hawke's face again. Sera cursed under her breath, and Solas looked angrily at it. Blackwall didn't seem phased in the slightest. Without waiting for anyone, Hawke rushed into the fray, followed closely by BarkSpawn. With both her arms free, and no magebane clouding her system, Hawke moved like a rogue gone mad, carving a path through the chaos.

It was seamless, and soon Blackwall was joining in the fray. Those two moved with each other like they had been fighting side by side for years. After the shock wore off, Lavellan and Solas began casting magic to help keep things moving, and Sera began shooting her arrows into the thick of it. It wasn't long till they knew they really would make it out of there, but Lavellan was right in thinking that it had cost them. Solas was knocked unconscious by one of the blasts a mage had sent at them, and suddenly everything stopped.

Hawke was suddenly there, catching him before he fell. “Blackwall!” She shouted, and then he was by her side too. “I can't carry him.”

“You'll cover me?” Blackwall asked, already shifting to carry the mage.

“Like you have to ask.” She said, with a playful smirk, as she took up carrying Solas's staff.

Now, without a sword, they had to run. Hawke seemed to be everywhere with that staff. Lavellan realized, as the two sent more enemies to their deaths, that just because Hawke did not use a staff did not mean she didn't know how. Together, they carved their way through the rest of the horde. It wasn't long after that that they found a quiet place to set up camp.

Lavellan took care of Solas, while Blackwall went hunting for dinner. Sera took the time to look over her bow, and Hawke just looked like she was ready to pass out. She had placed Solas's staff next to him, so he wouldn't freak out when he woke up. It wasn't until dinner was near done that Solas woke up, and by that point Hawke was asleep using the mask as shade cover. Seeing his look of confusion, Lavellan couldn't decide if she should leave him like that or not.

-

“She saved your ass, you know.” Blackwall said, handing him a bowl of fennec stew.

“Also, she played with your stick.” Sera said, with a chuckle.

“What happened?” He asked, with a groan, as he accepted the stew.

“Hawke lost her mind when you went down, that's what happened.” Lavellan said, pointing to the now sleeping woman.

Solas shook his head in confusion, and stared at the woman in question. She was sleeping, using the mask of Fen'Harel as a shade cover, with her mouth hanging open. He chuckled a little at seeing that. She was something, that was certain. He shook his head again, seeing where his mind had been about to go.

“What do you mean?” Solas asked, with a wince. His head still bothered him.

“I mean, as soon as you went down, she went ballistic.” Lavellan said, not really clarifying anything.

“She took your staff, and blew them up with it. Fire rained down from everywhere.” Blackwall added, as he got another bowl of soup. “I had to carry you out. She's a force of nature, that woman.”

He hadn't noticed when Alhasha had woken up, too busy grumbling about that blasted woman touching his things. She had even finished her stew before he'd even noticed, and by then it was too late. When he looked over at her, he knew she'd heard every word, despite the fact that no one else had heard him. However, instead of feeling guilty about that, he was caught by how reflective her eyes were in the fire light. With the wolf's fur hanging about her, it only added to the wild beauty that she had.

“I think I'll take first watch, Blackwall.” Alhasha noted, before getting up, a frown on her face.

“Of course, Hawke.” Blackwall replied. “I'll take second watch then.”

A little while after Alhasha left, Blackwall turned to him and asked. “Well, are you going to go after her or not?”

“Why would I do that, Blackwall?” Solas asked, slightly annoyed, as he was already trying to figure out what to do about her.

“I don't know, maybe because instead of being grateful that she saved your hide, you grumbled about how she touched your stuff. You weren't exactly quiet about it.” Blackwall replied, and Solas realized he hadn't been as quiet about it as he thought he'd been. “I know you travel alone most of the time, but even you should know how to treat a lady.”

He left, feeling properly chastised, to find Alhasha. The strange thing was, he did not find her in the perimeter that would have been good for setting up watch. He found her above it, sitting on a small cliff face that overlooked camp. She hadn't noticed him yet, or so he thought, but at that moment he stepped on a rune of freezing. He stilled instantly, and by the time he unfroze, he realized she was standing in front of him.

“What do you want?” She asked, her arms crossed in front of her, as if she didn't trust him anymore.

“I came to apologize.” He replied. She just scoffed, as if she did not believe him. “It was rude of me to act that way towards you.”

“Hasn't really stopped you before though, has it? This wasn't exactly the first time you've been an ass to me, you know. _Arlathan_ must have seriously lacked for manners.” She said, scolding him. “You can go back and tell Blackwall or Lavellan that I forgive you, if it gets them off your back about it. I want no forced apologies from you.”

“How do you know it wasn't Sera?” He asked, with a small smile. So she was angry at him for more than just today, probably because he had went back to ignoring her, and she would not forgive him so easily as this.

“Sera likes to watch you squirm.” Alhasha replied. “Quite frankly, I'm finding that I agree with her.”

-

Blackwall and the others were laughing when he got back to them. Of course, seeing him, they started laughing harder than they were before. He's not sure that he wants to know what the joke is, and sits back where he had been, trying to figure out what to do about that insufferable woman. BarkSpawn scoots over a book to him, but before he can pick it up, Blackwall scoops it up. Confused, Solas was about to ask Blackwall what the deal was, when the man started chastising the Mabari.

“I know you're trying to help him, but are you trying to get him killed first?” Blackwall asked, lightly smacking the dog on the nose with the book. “These are her private thoughts. She'd skin you alive once she figured out what you did, and that's after she kills him.”

The Mabari just huffed at him, and went to sit next to Solas.

“So, how'd it go?” Blackwall asked, after putting the book back in her bag.

“She said to tell you that she forgave me if it meant getting you off my back about it.” Solas replied, with a tired sigh. “No forced apologies.”

“So she's still angry at you then?” Blackwall asked, a lot happier about this than Solas thought one should be.

“Looks that way, Blackwall.” Solas replied, with a sigh, but was quietened when he saw money being passed to Sera. “How did you know she wouldn't forgive me?”

“Because you went up there thinking you only needed to apologize for one thing, when you have a mountain of things.” Sera answered, with a grin. “Good luck getting yourself out of that mess, Shiny.”

This mission could not be over soon enough.

-

It started so subtly that he didn't even notice when it had begun. If he had to pinpoint a time, he'd go with that disastrous mission. The Mabari had apparently taken a liking to him, and the irony was not lost on him about that. He hadn't thought anything of it at first, as he had spent much of his time near the apothecary's building, and considering that is where Alhasha worked; of course the Mabari would be there. It wasn't until BarkSpawn tried to get onto the roof he was sunning on, that Solas began to wonder.

No one could look at him with a straight face for a while after that. It hadn't helped that when BarkSpawn fell through the roof, he brought Solas along with him. Even Alhasha hadn't been able to keep a straight face. Unable to hide it any longer, she laughed out loud the second she saw him, no longer mad at him. The Mabari just looked at him with a shit eating grin as if to say 'see? I told you it'd work'.

So, here he was, reduced to hiding in an alcove in the Singing Maiden. He had stopped hiding out on rooftops, because he didn't want a repeat performance of that happening again. So far, the Mabari hadn't found his latest hiding place. Varric and Dorian found his trial by Mabari very entertaining. It was here, that he heard the voice that had been haunting him everywhere.

“ _Cullen, this shouldn't be that complicated.”_

It was the voice that stopped him cold, like she had practically purred the words in his ear. Several things ran through his mind at once. She had respected his wish for instant space, not understanding the immediate bond between the two of them. Had she given up on hunting him? Was she now interested in that damned _shemlen_?

“Hawke, I appreciate your help, but this is war. I can't just go confessing my feelings.”

“ _Why not? Now seems like as good a time as any.”_

“This is neither the time or the place. Maybe after this is all over…”

“ _You might not have the chance later! Are you seriously telling me you care what people will think?”_

“Maker's breath, Hawke. It's not that simple!”

“ _Yes it is, you're just making it complicated.”_

“A brilliant, beautiful mage, and a hollowed out husk of an ex templar? It would never work.”

“ _Come on! That's exactly the sort of thing Varric would write about. It'd be epic, and you know it. You're just scared. Maybe I should tell…”_

“You wouldn't dare…Hawke, don't.”

“ _Oh, it's not that bad. So your hair is a little…”_

“Damn it, Hawke. That's enough.”

“ _So, you're_ _not_ _thinking of her running her fingers through it right now?”_

Five seconds later he saw Cullen stomp through the Tavern with murderous intent. He wisely decided not to ask him what the two had actually been discussing, as it was only at the last moment that he realized that she was not after the shemlen, the snowball fight entering his mind. Solas wasn't sure why he was relieved to know that, as he had made it his personal mission to avoid that woman whenever possible. Of course that didn't stop his blood from boiling every time he saw her flirting with someone, which was quite a lot considering her playfully sarcastic nature. It seemed that Varric was right, avoiding her wasn't going to work forever. She truly was her own force of nature, he noted, and he was finding it more difficult to ignore her with every day that passed.

“Maybe it is not wise to tease the Commander, _Alhasha._ ” Solas said, slightly amused, trying to catch her eye for once.

She walked by him as if he hadn't spoken to her at all. She hadn't looked his way, or acknowledged if she had even heard him. He was surprised by how much that bothered him. She smiled and laughed with old friends, drank and told stories with the Chargers, but no glances were spared for him. Why did that bother him so much?

“Alright, that's it! War Room Meeting, right now! Women only!” Alhasha announced, surprising him out of his thoughts. “On second thought, Dorian, you're invited too. I need someone in my corner to help me reason with them.”

“Why are you calling a war room meeting, and why does Dorian get to go?” Cullen asked, still frustrated. “You're not even an adviser, Hawke.”

“One, because there is an important topic that needs to be addressed, and two; because Dorian is deliciously unattainable eye candy, and therefore prettier than you.” She replied, with a sly smile.

“Such flattery from a beautiful woman like yourself, Hawke, you'll make me blush at this rate.” Dorian replied, with some amusement. “Do continue.”

 _Fenedhis!_ Didn't he just get through mistaking her interest in the Commander? Now he had to deal with that showy Tevinter? Sometimes he cursed her playful nature, as it seemed that she was the only one that he'd come across that could destroy the control he had. Even now his hands clinched into fists as he shook. He was so distracted by his own thoughts that it wasn't until Varric's chuckling broke through that he looked up.

What he saw almost had him cursing out loud. Not only had Varric caught him in his musings, so had just about everyone else. Varric, Blackwall, Cullen, and Iron Bull stood there as if they were waiting for him. What did they think they were there to do? Was this some kind of intervention on their part?

“Well, you coming or not, Chuckles?” Varric asked, expectedly. “We have bets to settle, an all women's war room meeting to spy on, and we need your help; seeing as how you're our resident elf man.”

“I can't believe you talked me into agreeing to this.” Cullen grumbled. “There are reports to do, and recruits to train.”

“All that shit will be there tomorrow, Cullen.” Blackwall said, with a lazy grin. “Besides, this is fun, good for morale.”

“I will not help you spy on a lady's private conversations.” Solas stated, moving to leave.

“Come on. You know you want to know.” Varric replied, as if to entice him.

“It's not like you weren't listening in on her private conversations earlier.” Iron Bull noted.

“That was different, and foolish.” Solas argued.

“You did what?” Cullen asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You know they're going to talk about all of us.” Blackwall revealed, with a smug grin. “Don't you want to know what they're going to say?”

“Fuck it. Tiny, grab him. We have to leave now, or all the good source material is going to be wasted.” Varric stated, determined, as he moved to leave.

“I will walk under my own power, thank you, Child of the Stone.” Solas said, walking around Iron Bull; who looked like he really was about to grab him.

-

“Alright, now why are we here?” Cassandra asked, cross. “And why didn't you just tell us before?”

“You wouldn't have come if I'd told you before.” Hawke teased.

“Well, we're here now.” Lady Montilyet with a grin. “Let's get down to business, shall we?”

“Alright. The reason why I have called you all here today is this. There is a major problem going on, and it needs to be addressed.” Hawke revealed.

-

“What are they saying?” Varric asked, grinning.

“I'd tell you, if I could hear them over you, Child of the Stone. I still don't know how you talked me into this” Solas replied, crossly, and went back to trying to listen in.

“Blackmail, and threats of embarrassment?” Varric offered, innocently, before Solas glared at him.

“ _\- The reason why I have called you all here today is this. There is a major problem going on, and it needs to be addressed.”_

“There's a problem in the Inquisition.” Solas relayed, causing Cullen to stand up.

_There is a buffet of gorgeous men out there, and you lot aren't dining on a single one of them! What are you? Chantry Mothers?_

His eyes went impossibly wide, making the others chuckle silently.

“She's fussing at them for their celibacy, and the buffet of gorgeous men they aren't dining on.” Solas relayed, with amusement, when Varric gave him a pointed look.

“Maker's breath. That's not a problem with the Inquisition. That's just called being professional.” Cullen muttered, turning red. Varric looks like he's about to die from holding his breath so no one hears him laughing.

_Is there any way we can display the candidates for them, my dear–D_

“She is not _his_ , damn it! Why does that foul Tevinter keep calling her that?” Solas hissed, asking no one in particular, but Iron Bull starts shaking from quiet laughter.

 _Oh, I think I can come up with something for all of our viewing_ _pleasure,_ _Messere…For our first contestant for the ladies of the Inquisition. We have…_ (There was the feeling of conjuration magic) _…He's tall, broad shoulders, well defined jawline, gorgeous locks of golden blonde hair you want to run your fingers through and pull on, and honey eyes that can stare into your very soul. Comes complete with a troubled past, and an adorably awkward shy guy complex, not to mention that sexy lip scar of his you all know you want to nibble on. It's a good thing he didn't have that in Kirkwall, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. There will be no one more devoted to you, and if you can break through all the walls he's placed around himself, no one will fight for you like the Lion of Honnleath._

“I'm learning way too much about you, Commander.” Solas bit out. In a more even tone, he continued. “She is apparently putting you all on display for the ladies of the Inquisition. I've just been given a very descriptive summary of all the Commander's…assets, and what Lady Hawke thinks of them.”

The dwarf wastes no time handing him pencil and paper to write everything down.

“Any one want to place bets on who she tries to pair us with?” Varric asks. The others quickly, but quietly, place their bets.

_**But he won't let me in** – L – **He's just so awkwardly adorable that I can't help it.**_

_I know what you mean, but with your grace and charm, my dear, there's no way he can resist you – D_

_**You're right about that lip scar of his too. I have to remind myself to pay attention to what he's saying so I'm not caught staring, or thinking about nibbling on it. I don't know how he hasn't caught me already!** – L _ (There's giggling from multiple sources)

“Lavellan thinks the Commander is awkwardly adorable.” Solas relayed, when they looked like they were bored. “And she wants to…nibble on the lip scar.”

“Ha! Pay up, Blackwall.” Varric said, with a grin.

“Maker's breath.” Cullen says, under his breath, tinging pink again.

_Next up…He's broad shouldered, well built, midnight black hair, and eyes that just seem to pull you to him. He's got his secrets, done terrible things maybe, but who better to patch him back up than you? He's a little older, refined, gentlemanly, but that just means that those experienced hands could take you places you've never been if you let them. Lady Montilyet, is that blushing I see?_

_**Absolutely not…I just…he just…I'm just going to keep quiet now.** – LM_

“Montilyet is flustered by Blackwall.” Solas relays.

“That's 7 you owe me, Dwarf.” Iron Bull smirked.

_For our next contestant. He's tall, rugged, muscular. He may be missing an eye, but that man misses nothing. I'd be willing to bet he knows how to treat a body right, and watching him walk around shirtless all day has the added benefit of constant access to eye candy. I for one, am not complaining, and I don't think anyone else is either. It's nice to finally have some Qunari eye candy that isn't trying to kill me. You lot should have seen the Arishok. If only he hadn't been trying to kill me, yeah?_

_He certainly is a fine specimen of what the Qun has to offer. You should see what the rest of him looks like. – D_

**_Indeed. Do tell, Dorian, what_ _does_** _ **the rest of him look like? Is he as well…equipped as they say? I'm told he has a thing for red heads** – Lil _ (He hears multiple women chuckling)

“Iron Bull, please tell me you haven't had sex with nearly every man and woman in Haven.” Solas asked, causing Iron Bull to raise an eye brow, and everyone else to chuckle lightly.

_**Why is that foul dwarf on display?** \- C_

_Because you tortured him for three days, and not once did you take advantage to touch the chest hair. That's practically a crime. I've been trying to touch that chest hair for years, and here you go wasting a perfect opportunity like that. You had him tied up and everything. Tsk. Tsk. Seeker. Did you at least get him to call you Master or something? Or is Seeker his sex name for you? Something he can safely say in public to send shivers down your spine? Oh, I'd bet it is. I never figured Varric for the type to like Punishment._

_**This is ridiculous** – C _ (Solas didn't realize it was possible to _hear_ blushing before)

_If you two could stop being angry at each other, you'd probably go at it like nugs, and then we'd never get you out of your rooms. Though I suppose that Rylen character is pliable. Do you want to see if he's as flexible as he looks? I'm told Dwarves are suppose to have magic fingers though. Rylen might not have magic fingers._

_**That dwarf is infuriating** – C _

_Me thinks thou doth protest too much, Cassandra_

“The Seeker is embarrassed by her attraction to the dwarf, and Lady Hawke thinks he likes _punishment_ and for some odd reason there's an obsession with the chest hair.” Solas relayed. Varric's mouth hung open instantly, so Solas could only presume he had not thought of the possibility of the Seeker, while the others snickered at the mention of 'punishment', and 'chest hair'.

“Did we even have a bet on that?” Cullen asked, hesitantly.

“I don't think we did.” Iron Bull replied, after a moment. “How did we not have a bet on that?”

“I don't know, but we should have.” Blackwall chuckles.

 _What about this one? - D_ (There was another flash of conjuration magic, though it felt different than before. Solas assumed Dorian cast this one)

**_Dorian, can you please explain to me why, in Andraste's name, is Solas on display now? I was told the kiss meant nothing, and he keeps ignoring me, and then not ignoring me, and then kissing me, and then going back to ignoring me again. I'm very confused by all of it._ **

_Come now, we agreed all of them should be on display. I can go next if you like.– D_

Solas stood straight, his eyes widening slightly, turning his head as if to hear them better. They were talking about _him_! As much as he'd tried to avoid her here lately, he did want to know what she thought of him. It couldn't be good, considering that avoidance. He was going to have to choose, he knew, knowing that this indecision was causing more damage than anything else. The others saw his change in body posture, and did not have to ask why.

**_You just want a chance to talk about how good you look, you great big flirt._ **

_While that is true, it is a shame that I can't hog the limelight forever, Dear – D_

**_Oh_ _alright…_ ** _(_ _si_ _gh)_ **_…He_ _is quiet, unassuming,...and dangerous. He carries himself with a regal grace. Once he has chosen a path, it takes an impossible force of nature to change his mind. If he is yours, he is devoted to you. He would ruin you for all other men. Not to mention he doesn't look bad shirtless, and I can attest to that personally. I've never seen a muscular mage before, like someone chiseled that man out of marble. There is something to the look in his eyes too, like he is both predator and prey. And that laugh of his is like music. No one will love you more, and he will treat you like a treasure, for the time that he is yours…for it would be limited. While you would be important to him, his cause is more so, and he would eventually leave you for it._ **

_Unless you can stick to it to the end, and have him take you with him, or make it so that he'll be lost without you. – D_

**_You're such a tease, Dorian. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to get a girl's hopes up like that? And here I thought you and I would run away together._ **

_Now who's the tease? – D_

“Run.” Solas said, suddenly, looking to the others.

They scrambled to get out of there as quickly and quietly as possible, Varric taking the time to snatch Solas's notes, but Solas paused. While what she said had hurt, she wasn't wrong either. His cause was the most important thing to him. He had to fix his mistakes, and this was the way to do that. However, he could not figure out how she knew these things about him when they had not spoken often.

“Come on, Dear. There's no need to be so down. You've helped several people realize their feelings. Though when I say help, I mean you hit them over the head with it in an amusing fashion. I rather enjoyed that. We should do it again sometime.” Dorian said, as they walked out of the room. The others had left before them. As he had made himself invisible, no one saw Solas. “If you're of a mind, you can join me for a drink, and talk about it.”

“Actually, I think I'll have to pass this time.” Alhasha replied. “Rain check?”

“For you? Always.” Dorian said, with a mischievous grin, before leaving the chantry, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Mother Gisele as he went.

When Dorian was completely gone, Alhasha leaned her head back and sighed. She sounded so tired, and it didn't look like she had been sleeping much. Come to think of it, he has noticed she is awake more often than not, working in the apothecary's shop late into the night. Suddenly her head shoots back upright, and she whirls around. For a moment, he thinks he's been caught.

“BarkSpawn, you get out from behind the statue of Andraste right now.” She orders, and sure enough, BarkSpawn saunters out from behind the stature he'd been standing near. “You smell like you've been rolling around in ham. You've been in the kitchens again, haven't you?”

Cue whining from the Mabari.

“Don't you give me that. You're going to apologize to those poor souls right now for your gluttony.” She fussed. “Now, march it, Mister.”

The Mabari looks back to Solas with a look that clearly says ' _ **You owe me**_ ', and makes his way out. Alhasha is fussing at the creature the entire way. Solas can't help but think that he truly does owe the Mabari, and marvels at the irony of it. He's got to think of something to do about Alhasha, he knows. In his effort to remain detached and yet learn of her, ignoring her but remaining close as he's been, he has hurt her.

 


	6. The Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke gets a little more involved with the Inquisition, and gets herself taken. Varric, freaking out, demands Solas find her, but what they find isn't pretty, and Hawke is in a rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, please don't hate me. This was hard to write for me. I had to take a few breaks. Fair warning, there's a death. Just a heads up.

Chapter 6

 

“Where is she?!” Could be heard throughout all of Haven.

Solas sighed in slight annoyance, having had a bad feeling about this. He had noticed that with Alhasha near him, he did not have the transferring dreams, as he had taken to calling them. He could simply walk the fade as he did before if he so wished, though her voice called him to stay in this world more often than not. So, it was possible to ignore the woman, but only if he kept her near him, which made ignoring her impossible. He saw her sometimes in the Fade, but refused to talk to her there, not knowing if he had that kind of permission from her.

This was getting out of hand. He had begun to care, and he could not allow himself such luxuries. There was still so much to do, and yet…When she did something dangerous, pushing herself to her limits, he could not deny that his heart would stick in his throat till he knew she was safe again. Suddenly, the door to his small hut burst in, and a very angry beardless dwarf stepped through.

“Where is she, Solas?!” Varric growled, surprising him further. It was rare for the dwarf to not use the nickname he'd given him.

“What are you talking about, master Tethras?” Solas asked, with minor annoyance. “Did you really have to knock down the door?”

“Yes, damn it!” Varric shouted, angrily. “Flint is gone! Where. Is. She?”

“How is that any of my business what you friend does with her spare time?” Solas asked, looking confused, now secretly worried. “She is her own person, is she not?”

“She went with Harding's scout group last week, to see why the mages haven't made it to Haven yet. The mages should have been here long ago.” Varric replied, his voice losing some of the anger it had, only to replace it with worry. “No one's heard from them, and now, no one's heard from Harding's scouts either. Something is wrong, I just know it. Flint never waits so long to send a reply back. You can do that out of body thing, and find them, right?”

“Not all of the time, master Tethras.” Solas replied, calmly, though now very very worried. “This is perhaps good news for you, and maybe she is simply delayed somewhere. That 'out of body thing' as you call it, has not happened yet.”

-

“Is that Antivan leather I smell?” Hawke mumbled, slowly waking up.

“It is good to see your beautiful eyes once more, Champion.” Zevran replied, charmingly. “You were asleep for quite some time.”

“Zevran?” She gasped, before cringing and rubbing her forehead. “So, how did they get _you?_ ”

“Oh, you know, the usual ways. Rumors of a lively dance, your deliciously long elegant legs, and an orgy, but alas, here I am.” Zevran noted, looking around. “Come to think of it, this is actually one of the nicer cages I've had the unfortunate pleasure of being in. They really let you stretch your legs in here, and what fantastic legs they are' my dear. Sadly, this cage is not really tall enough for role play though. Have you met our friend here? Charmer, this one. He just popped in here, without any effort at all. Strong silent type, glares whenever I get close to you. I like him.”

“He's not bald, is he?” Hawke asked, still trying to rub away her headache.

“As a matter of fact, he does seem to have a remarkable lack of hair.” Zevran replied, jovially. “Wherever did you find him?”

“Oh, you know, the usual ways. He showed up in my jail cell while I'm completely naked, and asks who my owner is.” Hawke replied, with a snort.

“Ah, all the best stories should start out this way, my dear champion. I was wondering if that curious line work of yours went all over your body, like your dark elven tevinter friend back in Kirkwall.” Zevran said. She could practically hear him smiling. “You are quiet lucky, my friend, to have seen such a beauty as her unhindered by clothing. If only we could all be so lucky.”

“He doesn't seem to think so. The man's been ignoring me for some time now.” Hawke grumbled, not realizing both men could hear her.

“That is truly a shame then. Perhaps he is simply not interested. I can always be a shoulder to cry on, a comforting embrace…without clothing, for maximum comfort of course, should you ever need it.” Zevran said, with a cheeky grin.

“Zevran, you great big antagonistic flirt. How does the Hero of Fereldan put up with you?” Hawke groaned, swatting at him, playfully.

“As you know, mages can do fantastic things with magic, my darling.” Zevran replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making her giggle. “She can restrain me any time she likes. You could too, if you wanted.”

“Why are you here, Solas?” Hawke asked, finally looking over to him. He looked positively feral, ready to kill Zevran at a moments notice, and it took a moment for her to realize that he was jealous of the elf sitting next to her…so much so that he could not even hide it now. “I didn't call to you this time.”

“ _Na tel lahna sai em i've tas._ ” He said, quietly. ** _You did not call to me before also._**

“ _Melahn'an vara, mai na te gara veth nar das. Ar tel'nuvenin na amahn._ ” She replied, calmly. **_Then leave, so you can get back to your avoidance. I don't need you here._**

“ _Tholi._ ” He all but growled back, and instantly disappeared. **_Fine_ _._**

“Ah, I see now. He likes you, but is angry and confused, and has decided to avoid you. While you understand that you like him, you are angry that he has ignored you, and seek to make him beg for forgiveness. Yes?” Zevran asked, in his usual jovial manner.

“I thought you didn't understand elvhen.” She teased.

“I still don't, but I can read people just fine.” He replied, taking on a more serious tone. “Want to tell me about it? It's not like we're going anywhere.”

So, she told him everything, well, almost everything. Zevran listened through it all, only interrupting to ask a question or two, in order to clarify things for him. She didn't understand why Solas showed such an interest in her, only to turn around and ignore her. Zevran was very interested in the hot spring part, in particular. However, he was surprised to learn what he did.

“Really, my dear champion. Only you would dare steal a first kiss, your own at that, from a man you thought was going to kill you.” Zevran chuckled, leaning back against the bars of the cage.

“You keep that under your hat, Zev. I shouldn't have said anything at all.” Hawke warned, as she followed suit.

“How fortunate then, that I have no hat.” He teased. “Though I would tip it off to you, if I had one.”

-

“ _Lanalin-thelol ishalen or ei dyrlan!_ ” Solas shouted, angrily upon waking up.

Varric couldn't get a word in before Solas started shouting some more, so he just started writing everything down.

“ _Ehn te as sila as air? Sai poror em mai elvyr'ela sul ra shyl shysi'len i'saryr! Brithan eir em vylal, dhamal ail ei aria, eil dirthan em as tel nuvenin em! Eil mahn ail si anbanal air asa Mabari?! As ema din rahn mahn as air, Ahn as'air tena, y'thu as'air varal sai gara tor or ra thelol taer, y as tel nuvenin em! Vara veth sai ma das! Ra'air ahn as dirthem sai em! Ahn y' shar Ar medyri sai te? As ema din rahn ahnsul ar ema sai das asa! As ema din rahn ahnsul t_ _el'ela'ar…tel'ela'ar…_ _” Solas ranted, angrily, pacing back and forth in his room._

“Herald!…Lavellan!…Lightning!” Varric shouted, seeing as how Solas didn't look like he was going to be slowing down any time soon. “A little help in here!”

“What in the void is going on Varric? I can hear him from the Chantry!” Lavellan said, rushing in a little while later, breathless.

“ Hang on. He's talking so fast, I'm not sure I can translate.” Lavellan whispered, looking at Solas as he's pacing the room

“ _As suran la Ar nera aindrysol asa! Ar ema din rahn ahn Ar shar tena melahn Ar tar ra maer, ra air shyr eilelia vena asa. As tel savis tu tath. Thes'garahnen! Shyr as savis tath nuven em vis as eolasem ahn Ar'ema tol…_ ” Solas growled, still ranting as he paced in the room.

“She acts like I enjoy ignoring her…I had no idea what I was doing when I cast that spell…that it would actually find her…She didn't even exist yet…Fuck it all…Would she even still want me if she understood what I've done…” Lavellan said, trying to translate quickly.

“Didn't even exist yet? Just how old is he?” Varric mumbled.

“What happened?” Lavellan asked, worriedly.

“I asked him to find her. He's the only one I know that can do that out of body thing, and he's connected to her somehow; I know it!” Varric insisted. “He went to sleep, woke back up, and started cussing up a blue streak. I haven't got a word out of him yet that I can understand. I wrote a bunch of it down, but I can't spell elvhen for shit, so you might not be able to translate it.”

“Let me try and calm him down. Whatever it was he saw must have bothered him badly.” Lavellan offered, before turning to Solas; who was still raging. “ _Solas…Solas! Felas dur. Nar dirthal tas shem. Ar'an teleolasan na. Ahn garem? Mahn'air Aenorean?_ ”

Solas looked up, like he didn't even realize she'd been there, but it was like the words got stuck in his throat. They watched as he took a piece of paper, and began sketching. It took some time, but when Varric realized he was sketching where she was, he watched more intently. It was then that he realized who the other person in the sketch was. No wonder Solas was pissed.

“Solas, if that's who I think it is, you're fucked, and I'm not talking the fun kind.” Varric remarked, earning him a glare from the reserved elf. “This elf is a former crow, a group of Assassins based out of Antiva. If he had wanted you dead, you'd be dead. On top of that, Zevran is practically walking sex on a stick, and he knows it. There's also the fact that he was very interested in Flint when he had to swing by Kirkwall. If she's even the slightest bit interested in him, you stand no chance, I will have to eat my tunic, and it will all have been your fault.” 

“ _Ra shyl shysi'len I saryr? Ahn tyr as vyrordia itha inor ish?_ ” Solas grumbled.

“I think the walking sex on a stick comment covers that. I can definitely see the appeal. He's quite exotic looking.” Lavellan muttered, earning her a glare from him too. “What do you want me to say? You can't ignore her, and then keep her within arms reach. That's not how this works, Solas. No self respecting woman will put up with that shit for long.”

“Ignoring her…was never…an option…was it?” Solas asked, calming down.

“Not even for a minute.” Varric replied, knowingly.

“She found the mages, and other prisoners. The scouts have been taken too. I couldn't see where they were going.” Solas sighed. “I'll need some more of the sleeping tea if I am to go back quickly. She isn't going to like this.”

“No. Most likely not.” Varric agreed.

-

“ _Lanalin-thelol ishalen or ei dyrlan!_ ”

**_Mother fucking son of a bitch!_ **

“ _Ehn te as sila as air? Sai poror em mai elvyr'ela sul ra shyl shysi'len i'saryr! Brithan eir em vylal, dhamal inor ei aria, eil dirthan em as tel nuvenin em! Eil mahn inor si Anbanal air asa Mabari?! As ema din rahn mahn as air, Ahn as'air tena, y'thu as'air varal sai gara tor or ra thelol taer, y as tel nuvenin em! Vara veth sai ma das! Ra'air ahn as dirthem sai em! Ahn y' shar Ar medyri sai te? As ema din rahn ahnsul ar ema sai das asa! As ema din rahn ahnsul ar't_ _el'ela…ar'tel'ela…_ _”_

**_Who does she think she is? To dismiss me so easily for that blond male-whore with tattoos! Looks at me pointblank, sitting in a cage, and tells me she doesn't need me! And where in the Void is her Mabari? She has no idea where she is, what she's doing, or how she's going to get out of that fucking mess, but she doesn't need me! Go back to my avoidance! That's what she said to me! What else was I suppose to do? She has no idea why I have to avoid her! She has no idea why I can't…I can't…_ **

“ _Solas…Solas! Felas dur. Nar dirthal tas shem. Ar'an teleolasan na. Ahn garem? Mahn'air Aenorean?_ ”

**_Solas…Solas! Calm down. You're talking too fast. We can't understand you. What happened? Where's Hawke?_ **

“ _Ra shyl shysi'len i'saryr? Ahn tyr as vyrordia itha inor ish?_ ”

**_That blond male-whore with tattoos? What could she possibly see in him?_ **

-

The scene that greeted him upon his return was not what he expected. Alhasha cringed in pain in a corner of the cage they were all in. That Zevran character looked more than a little worried, as he tried to see what was wrong, but she refused to let him near her. No amount of pleading would assuage her. Zevran turned to him quickly, and pleaded with the new arrival.

“Maybe _you_ can talk some sense into her.” Zevran suggested, more than a little frustrated. “She won't let me near her to see what's wrong, and she is in increasing amounts of pain the further we go.”

“ _Alhasha_ , what's wrong? What happened?” Solas asked, alarmed, moving closer to her.

“Don't come any closer, was not a suggestion…to either of you. Damn it!” Alhasha growled, sounding a lot more animalistic than she did before.

“That's new.” Zevran noted, trying not to sound worried.

“ _Alhasha_ , please. I can't help if I don't know what's going on. Another dose of Magebane, no matter how large, wouldn't do this.” Solas insisted, calmly. He could feel a shift in her entire being.

“If it were just that simple.” She chuckled, darkly, her voice pained. “There's a mage…somewhere…( _Pained cry_ ) They know I'm here…they know what I am…and they're trying to force the shift…and it hurts…Everything hurts…( _Pained cry_ )”

Her lyrium lines lit up, but it was erratic, like a flickering flame.

“Maybe this will help.” Solas said, and without warning, grabbed onto her forearms. Before she can object, he adds “Those lyrium lines…Normally a mage would take from them. It's what they're for, I believe, but the reverse is true too. Magic can be put into them, instead of taken out. It could help you resist the other mage, help pause the shift.”

What he didn't expect was for her to also grab onto his forearms as well, and that a sharp pain would accompany that. When he looked down, blood was coming from where her fingertips touched his skin. Her fingernails had become slightly elongated and pointed. Her eyes were closed, and she kept shaking her head back and forth. She had been trembling, when all of a sudden, she stopped.

“ _Alhasha,_ _Itha eir em. Lasa em sai itha nar inan_.” Solas asked, coaxing. **_Look at me. Allow me to see your eyes._**

“ _Ea son ahn na nuvenin sul_.” She said, before opening them. **_Be careful what you wish for._**

-

“Maybe sending him like that was a bad idea.” Lavellan said, nudging Varric. “Look.”

On both of Solas's arms, they could see small pinpricks forming. Blood poured from the wounds easily, and Lavellan quickly went to work healing them. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe they shouldn't have asked this of him. He seemed to have had a breakdown of some kind, or an epiphany, she wasn't sure. Some of the things he'd said hadn't made any sense.

-

“ _Ea son ahn na nuvenin sul_.” She said, before opening them. **_Be careful what you wish for._**

Just how many times was she going to surprise him like this? He stared into the eyes of a creature he had thought no longer existed in this world of ignorance and death. When he smiled, her look changed into one of confusion. He guessed that maybe it was his turn to surprise her. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Her shift was paused, it seemed, and now she carried even more wolfish traits than she did before. Her eyes were pure black though, barely containing any traces of the blue that had been there. Her hair was still that ink black colour, but it looked more full-bodied now. He could see her teeth had changed too, even more fang like than the drawing he had showed Varric.

“ _Ina'lan'ehn._ ” He whispered. **_Beautiful_.**

“So I can shape shift into a wolf, big hairy deal.” She growled, as she let go of him and began looking around.

“If I am correct, a wolf is the only form you can take.” It was a statement, but the way he said it left if open as a question.

“Yeah…Your point?” She asked, not looking at him, her nose twitching ever so often as she looked around quickly.

“You are a _Fenina_ , not a shapeshifter, or a werewolf. The Wolf is simply within you always.” Solas replied. “Why are you looking around like that?”

“Because we're slowing down.” She stated, as if it were obvious.

-

“ _Aileraesardi asha!_ ” Solas growled, as he shot up. **_Insufferable woman!_**

“Now that's not very nice.” Lavellan teased.

“I think I can get us to where they are, but I don't know why they've been taken.” Solas said, after shaking his head. “It's not just mages…I don't understand why they would need so many…and she was looking around a lot when they began slowing down…”

“If it's the Venatori, I can take a guess as to why they would need so many.” Dorian stated, alerting Solas to his presence. “Classic Tevinter blood mage parties are all the rage now, I hear.”

“She wouldn't.” Lavellan said, understanding something he did not yet.

“She would. Maker's Balls, she's got a history of that spanning back before even her time in Kirkwall. She'll do something that stupid, and if we're lucky, we'll catch the end of it.” Varric fussed, grumbling the whole time. “That is, if she's alive when we get there.”

-

The guards had been easily taken care of, once she was free of the cage. This had caused all the others to stop, allowing her to strike quickly. Zevran worked to free the prisoners, while she 'questioned' the rest of the bandits. She was so angry, she couldn't think straight. She was barely aware of Solas walking up to her, barely able to wonder how he had found her so quickly.

“ _Alhasha_ …” He tried, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he could sense that something worse was wrong.

“Have the others escort the mages to Haven.” She said, her voice sounding void, even to herself. “I have to go.”

She gave him no more information, no more thought to his being than that. In her present state of mind, there was only finding her friend. They had, before she'd killed most of them, admitted to selling him to a slaughterhouse. Those people had better pray to whatever god they believed in that he was still alive, because if he wasn't, they would all die.

-

Varric watched her stalk off, not realizing yet why she'd left. The area around them looked like she was pissed, blood everywhere, chunks of earth missing or charred. Groaning alerted him to one of the bandits still being alive, and he made for him, though he noted that he wasn't the only one. Solas followed after him, though he'd looked after Flint for a bit first. The bandit was in bad shape, but he would be fine enough for a conversation.

“What did she ask you?” Varric asked, his voice steeled.

“Answer us, and we can make your death quick.” Solas offered, kneeling down to him. “There is no need for you to continue suffering.”

“Her Mabari…we sold it…needed the money…We have families…” The man said, hoarsely.

“That Mabari **_is_** her family. You will get no sympathy from me in that regard.” Varric replied, keeping his voice businesslike. “Did you tell her where you sold him?” The man nodded.

“We'll need to know where too.” Solas informed him.

“There's an old mining facility not far from here.” The man said, pointing off somewhere. “You should make it there by day break.”

“As promised.” Solas said, moving his hand roughly as if he were twisting the air. It was a magic that snapped the man's neck, killing him instantly. To Varric, he said. “We need to leave now.”

“You don't have to tell me twice.” Varric said, with a nod. “Seeker! We're going to need a sword!”

“I'm coming with you!” Lavellan shouted.

-

It had all happened so fast. She hadn't even seen the blow that would have killed her, but BarkSpawn had. He did what she would have done in his place, and took the blow when he knocked her out of the way. This ear splitting scream rang throughout the entire complex, stilling everything. It didn't dawn on her till later that it was her that was screaming.

She wasn't entirely sure how she did it, magic, blade, fade spirit, but the rest of the men died within moments. She spared them no more thought, going back to the Mabari that was so loyal to her. He still lived, but she wasn't sure how long he would hold out. He just looked up at her, and she knew that he knew, and gave a sort of huff as if to say he'd do it again. With tears in her eyes, she cracked a sad smile just for him.

“Guess _you_ get all the alcohol this time.” She said, placing in front of him a small tin she'd found, and poured the liquid into it. For all the world, she'd swear the Mabari smirked at her before going to town on the bowl. She made to start healing him. “Now don't think…I'm going to…to let you sleep in tomorrow…You can expect the full…the full hangover experience…including…including bright lights, and…and loud noises…the works…I may even hire a marching band…Haven could throw a party or something.”

She knew, the second that she started trying to heal him, that it wouldn't work. She kept at it anyway, if only to ease his discomfort as he passed. Tears streamed down her face as she cussed at herself in her mind. If only she were a better healer, he would live…a lie, she knew. Still, she kept trying, kept talking to him.

“Oh hush now, there's no…no need to worry…about me like that, I'll…I'll cheat…I'll cheat Varric in DiamondBack for you…I'm sure the Fade…must be quite the…quite the party by now…You know how Bethany loves to…to make people smile…Mother is sure to have all your favorite treats too…She never could…She never could stop spoiling you…” She said, through her tears. “Father will be glad to see you, and…and you'll have loads to tell him. Just…Just don't tell him about the time…you got stuck in a nug trap…You'd never hear the end of the laughter, and…Don't tell Carver this, but you're my favorite…It might hurt his feelings…He's convinced it's him…I'll miss you, old friend…BarkSpawn?… _BarkSpawn?…_ ** _Barkspawn!!_ ”**

-

It hit him square in the chest, knocking the breath right out of him, and he fell off the horse with an odd _umph_ sound. He heard the others call out to him in alarm, but he couldn't say anything. He'd been seized by despair, and could not speak to tell them, could barely breathe. He had no way of knowing how long he was like that, or if any of them had tried to reach him, but by the time he became aware again they had set up a small camp. When he began looking around, it alerted the others.

“Andraste's great flaming ass, Chuckles, what in the Void happened?” Varric asked, almost like he was afraid of the answer.

He suddenly became aware that tears had been streaming down his face, probably had been for some time, and he put his hand to his face in surprise as he tried to say. “…Her pain…I…”

 **“ _Shit!_ ”** Varric cursed, angrily, throwing down a glass bottle so hard it shattered. “Tell me he isn't dead, Solas.”

“I can't…do that.” Solas replied. A realization hit him. “Tell me…she wouldn't…”

“With grief powerful enough to knock a **_mage_** on his ass?” Varric said, not looking at anything in particular as he thought about his friend. “I don't know that I can say that, Solas…She might…”

“…Because she lost…the Mabari?” Solas asked, not out of disrespect but of trying to understand.

“Not just a Mabari, the last of her original family.” Varric corrected, knowingly.

“I have to…We have to go…We have to…We have to get to her.” Solas said, standing on shaky legs.

“You're right. Someone has to get to her, but you'll make better time on your own, Chuckles. You can get your horse to go faster than the rest of us can. We'll follow as we can.” Varric replied. “Get going, and save my friend from herself, would ya? We're not that far now.”

-

Looking at her now, he almost wishes he had waited with the others. She doesn't even see him there, lost in her grief as she is. Alhasha rests beside her Mabari friend, as if they were simply sleeping next to each other for warmth. There's no life in her eyes when he looks into them, and it worries him. So he begins looking over her for wounds of any nature, hoping he doesn't find any, more worried when he doesn't find any.

“ _Alhasha_ , you must listen to me…” Solas said, unsure of what would reach her.

“ _Dara var, eil vara em sai dina_.” She said, though it was so low he almost didn't hear it. **_Go away, and leave me to die._**

“You would let his sacrifice be for nothing?” He asked, earning him an angry glare, but right now he'd take it. This was better than lifelessness. That lifelessness from her scared him. “It is clear the Mabari was very loyal to you. Nothing short of death would keep him from your side. Do not reward that loyalty with your own death. It will be an insult to his sacrifice. _Alhasha_ , you've got to snap out of this. I don't know how to help you.”

“I told you to leave me be!” She growled, lashing out at him.

Suddenly, he was on the defensive, having to block the blows that came from her. Her anger fueled her movements, giving her speed that she may not have otherwise possessed. Try as he might he couldn't reach her. His pleas fell on deaf ears. All he could do now was block , deflect, and dodge until she wore herself out, which was surprisingly more difficult than he thought it'd be.

“This blinding rage will not help you!” He shouted…right before being knocked through a wall, and falling flat on his back next to Varric.

“I take it things aren't going well?” Varric asked, hesitantly.

“You could say that, master Tethras.” Solas replied, his voice pained from lack of breath, as he got up from the ground.

In no time at all, she was in front of him, trying to hit him. Any other time, he would be impressed with her excellent fighting skills. Right now, he was more worried about how to get her back to herself. The others looked shocked at such a development, all but Varric anyway. Solas realized that if Varric wasn't surprised, it meant he had seen this before, and if that were true than his plan to get her to tire herself out wouldn't be going as easily as planned.

-

“We do not have time for this!” Cassandra shouted, and began to move towards them…or she would have, if Solas hadn't sent out a pulse of force magic to knock her on her ass.

“You will not interfere, Seeker.” Solas practically growled, almost getting knocked out by Flint.

“He's right, Cassandra, you need to back off for now.” Lavellan agreed. “He needs to do this on his own.”

“She's trying to kill him. We can not sit by, and do nothing.” Cassandra insisted, once she got up again.

“That's exactly what you're going to do.” Varric replied, no-nonsense. “Look at her, Seeker. Right now, she's not in her right mind. She's grieving, filled with rage, and it needs to be directed somewhere. She's not trying to kill him, she's trying to force his hand.”

“Why?” Cassandra asked, confused, and then it dawned on her. “She's trying to get him to kill her?”

 **“ _What?!_ ”** Solas growled, angrily. Apparently, being in a fight did not hinder his sharp hearing. “You can't possibly expect me to do that!”

-

“Damn it, _Alhasha_ , stop!” Solas hissed at the woman, as he deflected another punch. “Come back to yourself!”

It couldn't last forever, this dodge and deflect, and he knew that. She wasn't coming back down from her rage, having lost the last piece to a puzzle he didn't fully understand. All of a sudden, pain exploded across his face as her fist made contact with his nose. The force of it made him take a couple of steps back to avoid falling. He didn't have to touch it to know that his nose was bleeding.

“That's it.” He declared, angrily, having lost his patience.

He hadn't struck out during this entire thing, but he did now. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her towards himself, and spun her around so that he could pin her arms as he held her to him. Alhasha fought like mad, trying to step on him, headbutt him, anything to get the fight to continue. All it did was end up unbalancing the two of them, and they fell to the ground. She shrieked in anger, a burst of fire magic blasting him, but he did not let go; He just hung on all the tighter for it, ignoring the pain that shot through him.

Solas wasted no time in entangling his legs with her own, insuring that she could not kick him. She continued to try and escape his hold, but with her movements restricted, all it did was make things very distracting for Solas. Fuck, that was not what he needed to think about right now. He whispered apologies, comfort, anything he thought would help calm her down. In the end, she just continued to cry, saying things that were nigh unintelligible to him.

“There's no one…who remembers…I'm the last…” She cried, those being the only words he could understand from her.

“I am truly sorry for your loss, _Alhasha_.” Solas said, softly. “Grieve, remember, but do not let this destroy you. Come back to yourself.”

“ _Dala em, sathan_.” She pleaded, desperate now. **_Kill me, please_**

“You can not ask that of me, _Alhasha_. I can not do that, nor would I if I could.” Solas replied, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

“It hurts…” She tried to say.

“I know.” He replied.

Her breath slowed down a little while later, and he realized she had passed out. Once he untangled himself from her, he carried her over to the others. A part of him wondered if the dwarf had initiated another betting ring while they had been fighting. From the looks of things, they had camp set up already, which was good.

“She finally wore herself out.” Solas said, in reply to the inquiring stares he was getting. “We should bury the Mabari while she sleeps.”

“We need to take care of your wounds first.” Lavellan insisted, as she watched him place the girl in his bed roll. “You look like shit.”

“I **_have_** felt better, _lethal'lan._ ” Solas admitted. “Where is master Tethras?”

“Burying BarkSpawn.” She replied, looking over his face as she cleaned away the blood. “He insisted, and I didn't have the heart to tell him to wait.”

“The way she looked when I found her, _lethal'lan_ …like she'd lost everything, and then to attack me to get me to…” Solas said, mentally shaking his head.

“You did better than Broody did when her mother died.” Varric said, walking up to them. “How's his nose?”

“She broke it, but I can heal that.” Lavellan replied, as she concentrated on healing the injury. “I was actually disappointed those two didn't get together in your stories, _ma falon_ , especially after that incident with the Tevinter blood mages and the lyrium ritual!”

“I lost a lot of good coin betting on them too.” Varric admitted, with a small chuckle. “Their chemistry would have made for one hell of a story.”

“And you wonder why I only bet small numbers of coin.” Lavellan teased.

“Who is this Broody, and how did he deal with this?” Solas asked, both curious and jealous at the same time. A part of him realized he didn't have that right yet, but the feeling came anyway.

“I keep forgetting you refuse to read any more of my books.” Varric sighed. “His name is Fenris, an ex-slave, escaped from Tevinter. Flint helped him kill his former master, and the apprentice…and just about everyone else who tried to find him.”

“Now, Varric, you're suppose to play up the physical attributes, so he gets all jealous.” Lavellan teased. “Dark skin, deep emerald green eyes, a full head of shock white hair, one of those deep timbre chocolate on gravel voices that make you want to do terrible and naughty things in as many ways as possible, and lyrium lines everywhere…and I do mean **_everywhere_.** According to Varric, all he ever does is Brood, and wield that giant Blade of Mercy of his. Women swoon as he walks past, and they'd all have broody little babies in his honour if he'd let them close enough. The two made a great fighting duo.”

“After her brother died, he was the only one that could keep up with her fighting like she does. In turn, she is the only one who can use magic on him without it causing him pain, the only mage he really trusted for a while.” Varric explained, trying not to chuckle at Lavellan's prodding. “He became like another brother to her, and lost me a good bit of coin in the process.”

“And the fight after her mother died?” Solas asked, still not understanding.

“Her brother taught her to move like a rogue, because they sparred together, so training with Broody was almost seamless.” Varric replied. “When her mother died, Broody offered to spar with her to work out the rage…He wasn't counting on just how much rage she actually had. They both ended up with a few broken bones, and an untold amount of sprains, fractures, and bruises. I'd never seen Blondie so mad as when he thought that Broody had attacked her.”

“Who is 'Blondie'?” Solas asked, incredulously.

“Why, Chuckles? Worried?” Varric asked, grinning just a little.

 

 


	7. When to give in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas isn't quite sure what to do, but thankfully, Varric knows how to pull his friend through her grief. Solas can't help but give in, just this once, wanting more than anything for her to be well again. What he doesn't realize is that Alhasha has a mischievous streak a mile wide, and he will pay for once again ignoring her...just not how he thought. For her, embarrassment is how she exacts her revenge, and he isn't prepared for it. The more he watches her now, the more he notices that if there is one thing he can't deal with, it's her pain.

Chapter 7

 

In the morning, she looked lifeless. She barely spoke, or ate, and didn't move much. Varric seemed to take it in stride, and he seemed to be getting the most reaction from her. Lavellan planted a seed of a tree over where Varric had buried BarkSpawn, and between her and Solas, the tree grew to be as tall as those in the Dales. Alhasha sat by it for most of the day.

That night around the campfire, Varric began telling stories to the group, funny things BarkSpawn had done on their adventures. She seemed to come to herself slowly after that, though it was a gradual process. The more he heard, the more Solas began to understand just why they had such a love for the creature. By the time that Varric got into full swing with it, Alhasha was looking much better. Her eyes still held the sadness in them, but it was good to see that she wasn't disappearing at the moment.

“Did you truly understand him, or did you make it up as you go along?” Solas asked, curious, as he sat next to her.

“A bit of both, I suppose.” She admitted, a bit subdued. “It wasn't always like that, and there was one time where he even tried to fight me.”

“I have to admit, it was strange to see a Mabari and a wolf as comrades.” Solas replied. “It is clear that he was loved by many.”

“Father gave him to me for my birthday.” She supplied.

“You said he tried to fight you. What happened?” Solas asked. Now was as good a time as any to start learning more of her.

“I don't think you've told me this one, Flint.” Varric said, encouraging her to continue, with a subtle nod of approval to Solas.

“I was so little when it happened. I refused to give him a raw steak from the stores, and he tried to assert dominance.” She said, as she absentmindedly touched at her ear. “Father always did say I was too rash…too stubborn for my own good…He was about to stop BarkSpawn when I…” She started blushing again.

“Hawke…what…what did you do?” Cassandra asked, not understanding why she was so embarrassed.

“I…Well, he…He had a hold of my ear with his teeth, you see, when I…I jerked out of his hold, ripping my ear clean open in the process, leaped onto his back, and bit his ear too.” She admitted, sheepishly. “He shot off like the wind, running, howling, trying to throw me off. We made quite the sight, or so I was told. After a while, he just stopped. We were friends from then on. Father later told me he hadn't laughed that hard in ages. Mother was beside herself somewhere between alarm and amusement, and I learned to hide my ear because it was unsightly for a lady to be so 'mangled' as mother put it.”

After a while, and a few more stories, the others went to sleep. Solas and Alhasha stayed up, talking some more. She had so many stories to tell regarding that Mabari. Something she had said before, about being the last to remember, he understood that at least. To have a being as loyal as this Mabari had been to her, was truly a gift to cherish.

“Is that why you hide your ear from me, because of how I reacted before?” Solas asked, quietly, after some time of them sitting in companionable silence. He moved to brush her hair behind her ear for him to see, when she grabbed his wrist to stop him, her eyes panicked. “ _Tel ea gela or em_.”  ** _Do not be afraid of me._**

“ _Ra'n tel ra._ ” She hesitantly let go of his wrist, and he moved her hair away. **_It's not that._**

It didn't look that bad now, but he imagined in her early years it would have looked much worse. A good piece of cartilage was gone. He could not help but run his fingers across the area along her ear. Her shuddering brought him out of his thoughts, reminding him just how sensitive elvhen ears could be. This gave him a wicked idea.

“ _Na myr ea,_ _A_ _ra'aenor._ ” He replied, playfully nipping at the shell of her ear. **_You should be, My prey._**

“ _Na sila na ane si_ _ghi’myelan,_ _melahn na ane si manean ailaer_.” She teased, brushing her cheek against his own. **_You think you are the hunter, when you are the fish instead._**

“ _Ei manean?_ ” He asked, his eyes alight with laughter, as he backed away slightly. **_A fish?_ ** “How am I a fish?”

“ _Thu ema Ir shael garal na sai vaes sai em? Sharol eil melenal. Eil ahn ten maneanisal aelar?”_ She replied, a little too innocently.

**_How have I been getting you to react to me? Baiting and waiting. And what does fishing entail?_ **

“ _Ir tel dhrua ra. Ar ema shael vaedelaer sai ei manean._ ” He said, a small smile gracing his face. **_I don't believe it. I have been reduced to a fish._** “ _Alhasha_ , we should not do this…I have to fix my mistake. You wouldn't like the things I'll have to do.”

“Those sound like the arguments of a man trying to convince himself, you know.” She said, looking to him now.

“True, but they are valid reasons all the same.” He countered.

“Then why is it you look worried?” She asked, and then something dawned on her. “You did something you think I'll hate you for…or several somethings, depending on how I look at it. They must _really_ be bad for you to be so worried. It might explain why you let me only so close, and ignore me at the same time.”

“How do you keep doing that?” Solas asked, frustrated.

“It's a bit hard to explain. It's almost like bubble thought epiphanies. It's just something I do. A good bit of my magic is kind of like that.” She admitted, leaning into him. “So…what did you do?”

“Why do you think I-” She stopped him with a look, and he sighed in defeat. Quietly, he said. “The birthmark on your ankle isn't a birthmark, _Alhasha_. It's a spell of identification, one specifically designed by myself…for the purpose of finding my…my mate in life. I listed qualities no _one_ woman could possibly have, even though they were things that mattered to me, because I did not want to find anyone. I just wanted to shut them up. I had not planned for it to find you, and now that it has, I don't know what to do.”

“You know, most men would buy a girl dinner.” She teased, a little more life coming into her voice then. “Cheesy pick up lines, things from bad romance novels and the like. I hear Varric has a collection of them if you're looking for lines not to use.”

“You are not…mad?” He asked, softly, not understanding. Many would feel manipulated, or wronged in some way.

“That you cast a spell to find me?” She asked, softly, looking over to him. “It's not like the spell gave me the personality I have, Solas, that's not how those things work. I'm that crazy on my own, thank you very much.”

“What happened today, _Alhasha_?” Solas asked, concerned. “I wasn't expecting you to go into a rage like that. Lavellan said you broke my nose, and Varric said that wasn't the first time you'd done something like that.”

“I could always do it again.” She teased, and pretended to move to hit him.

“No!” He nearly shouted, eyes wide as he wrapped his arms around her to stop her, only to be shocked by another giggle.

“Baited again, _Ara'manean_.” She whispered, snickering at his reaction, as she began kissing along his neck now. **_My fish._**

“ _Alhasha…Na'tel'eolasa…ahn na te sai em…Na myr'tel nuven…ahn ra suleva…_ ” He groaned, unsuccessfully trying to stop himself from shivering at her touch, as she did to him what he had done to her, and then she tentatively licked the shell of his ear. “… _Fenedhis_ _!_ ”  ** _You don't know…what you do to me…You should not want…what that means……!!!_**

Suddenly, he pulled her onto his lap, their bodies pressed as close as they can get to each other. She is his undoing, he knows, and for the moment he relishes in the feeling of it. Neither of them can seem to get enough. Her kiss tastes sweet like honey, and her caresses alone send shivers through him. He caresses her neck, tracing her jawline with his thumb.

“ _Ar tel dirtha'vhen'an…tel sai nuem na…Ar shor vara…Ar shor josa…_ ” He says, between kisses.  ** _I can not promise…not to hurt you…I will leave…I will run…_**

“ _Vana manean…Dirtha'vhen'ana la ra…myr tel…ea tuem sastvir…Es'an ane eilar danem._ ” She replied, in the same manner. However, at the last moment, she pulls away, and whispers in his ear. “ _Tua din toraji, Fen'Harel…si sahl na ithem em…Ra shar eilaedia tas fel sul na sai vara…Ar shor eilar vena na._ ”

**_Silly fish…Promises like that…should not…be made anyway…They are always broken…_ **

**… _Make no mistake, Fen'Harel…the moment you saw me…It was already too late for you to run…I will always find you._**

He could not help the small smile that tugged at his lips then, as he leaned back to look into her eyes again. She meant every word she'd said to him. It was too late for him to run…from her at least. Judging from the wolfish grin she was giving him, she knew he'd reached that conclusion too. He would have to decide soon, but for the moment all he wanted was another kiss.

-

Meanwhile, what they did not know was that they weren't the only ones awake. Cassandra, though she was in her bedroll in the tent, could see them clearly. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she did witness their kisses. She smiled to herself, and turned over to snuggle deeper into her bedroll. It was good to know that they were no longer denying their feelings. It was a start, at the very least.

-

This time, when everyone got back to Haven, he did not ignore her. They spoke often, but he was still hesitant in his actions in regards to her, and he knew that she saw that. He wasn't even sure this was a good idea. Would she still want to be with him when all of this was over, when she realized that this was all his fault? He had told her of the conclave, sure, but did she truly **_understand?_**   Would she want to help him, or stop him? Knowing her, he knew, it might be a bit of both. Maybe Tethras would want to bet on that too.

She rarely sings anymore though, and when she does, the melody always sounds sad. He doesn't know what to do to help her, and a part of him really wished he didn't care so much. The woman has practically buried herself in her work, so much so that he can't remember the last time he saw her in the Fade. He fights a war within himself, one that should not have come to this. Help her, or watch her drown.

-

Varric couldn't believe his eyes when he finally took a look at all the things that Solas had written down from the Women's Meeting, though that had been some time ago. It included Flint's evaluation of Solas as well. No wonder she had been avoiding the elf! Her ability to read a person rivaled his own, and she knew the type of man Solas was. Damn it, he didn't want to eat his tunic!

There was nothing else for it, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. He'd seen how Flint had buried herself in her work, and how tortured Solas looked when he thought no one was looking. So, when the rare opportunity presented itself, and they all gathered together in fellowship, Varric slowly set his plan into motion. Lavellan was laughing along with Flint. Cassandra kept glancing over at him every so often, but when he looked over at her, she'd scowl and look away. Iron Bull, Blackwall, and Cullen were in a debate about sword tactics. In all fairness though, he should not have underestimated his friend.

 _“_ Lavellan, I have a dalish question.” Flint said, while the cards were being dealt again. This caught Varric's attention.

“This ought to be good.” Sera said, with a snort and a laugh.

“The stories Father told were much different than the stories I heard from other dalish. So I have questions.” Flint admitted, but there was a mischievous look in her eyes that Varric noticed. This was going to be good.

“Alright, I will try to help as I can. We've lost a lot, so I may not be able to help you.” Lavellan warned, kindly.

“There's a phrase I keep running into whenever a dalish elf is seriously pissed off at me. _Nuva si Fen'Harel ver'na_.” Flint explained, with an impish grin. Though Varric couldn't understand why she was so amused, he did notice how Solas had stopped moving. “Explain that phrase to me, if you would.”

“May the Dread Wolf take you?” Lavellan answered, confused. “Why would you want to know about that phrase? Does this have something to do with that mark on your ankle?”

“Well, at least Solas isn't the only one asking about my ankles now. At this rate, they'll be just as talked about as my legs. Maybe I should start showing them off more.” Flint teased. When the chuckles died she started again, sounding a little too innocent, with a barrage of questions that would have made Daisy proud. “My question is this. Why do they say that? Is it something dirty? How and where is he taking you, and do you get to pick what position you're in before you 'get there'? Why would you shout that out in public, to someone you don't even like? Shouldn't that be some kind of kinky sex talk or something? If it is, does that mean they are exhibitionists? Are they trying to tell me that they like me while trying to kill me? Should I tell them that I'm not interested in being killed in action while trying to get action?”

Lavellan can't breath, she's laughing so hard, same thing with Sera. Cullen sports deep blushes now, though Varric isn't sure if it is embarrassment, discomfort, or both. Solas is coughing, sporting a blush to rival the Commander's. Iron Bull is crying, he's actually laughing so hard, and BlackWall looks like his eyes are going to pop out every time he tries to take a breath through the laughter. Only Vivienne seems unaffected by the jokes, till Varric realizes he can see warmth in her eyes too.

“Solas, I have to ask. Sera and I were just talking about you. We need you to settle a question for us.” Blackwall speaks up, keeping the laughter going.

Solas sighs. “Sera's involved? So this question will be offensive.”

“Yes…Probably…Sorry.” Blackwall replies, making Flint snicker. He sounds in no way apologetic. “You make friends with spirits in the Fade. So…um, are there any that are more than just friends?…If you know what I mean.”

Sera, Lavellan, and Flint practically die laughing.

“Oh, for…really?!” Solas asked, clearly offended. “Of all the things to ask about spirits and the Fade, and that's your question?”

“I'm actually kind of curious about this now. I didn't even know that could be a thing.” Flint admits, much to Blackwall's amusement, as she whispers conspiratorially to Lavellan. “That's a thing?”

“Look, it's a natural thing to be curious about.” Blackwall said, defending his question.

“For a twelve year old!” Solas shot back.

“It's a simple yes or no question!” Blackwall insisted.

“Nothing about the Fade or spirits is simple, especially not that.” Solas argued.

“Aha! So you do have experience in these matters!” Blackwall chuckled.

“I did not say that.” Solas replied, coolly.

“It certainly sounds as if you have experience in these matters. You didn't say no, after all.” Flint teased, giggling.

Blackwall is rolling with laughter now. “Don't panic. It'll be our little secret.Well. You, me, and the rest of the Inquisition.”

“Ass.” Solas grumbled.

“Now who's twelve.” Flint giggled.

“Solas, you're my last hope.” Varric said, dramatically. Flint snickered and rolled her eyes at him.

“This ought to be good.” She said, with a smirk.

“Lavellan won't help me, I've already asked, and I'm too far from my spy ring of elven urchins back in Kirkwall. Flint might help, but I'd feel weird asking her help for this.” Varric goes on to explain.

“What can you possibly need my help with _this_ time, master Tethras?” Solas asked, warily. He looked to be at the end of his rope now.

Varric pulls out a pencil and his book, and replies. “I just need a small sample of some sweet elven pillow talk for my next book.” Half the table erupts in laughter. Flint is caught between laughing, and choking on her mead.

“Absolutely not.” Solas replied, not even thinking about it.

“Awe, come on, Chuckles. It won't hurt you.” Varric pleaded. “It's not like I'll know what you're saying. You could be talking about doing the wash, and I'd never know.”

“What part of no do you not understand, Child of the Stone?” Solas asked, clearly frustrated with the dwarf.

“I promise not to mention your name or anything.” Varric added, like it was incentive.

“Oh, for the love of the Maker! If it will get you to _shut up_ , Dwarf. Shut up and pay attention, because I'm only going to say this stuff once.” Flint huffed, in annoyance. Then, in a sultry voice that Varric didn't know that his friend could even possess, she continued. “ _Isalan ma gara suin em. Din nuvenin melena bell'ana. Vianas mar'vhenan sul'em. Na eolasa ara isalathen. Ir suledin var mah halam, vhenan. Ar dirtha vir’sulenehn. Ar isalan rosas'da'din sul'em._ _”_

_-_

_Isalan ma gara suin em – **Make love to me.**_

_Din nuvenin melena bell'ana – **I can't wait anymore**_

_Vianas mar'vhenan sul'em – **Open your heart to me**_

_Na eolasa ara isalathen – **You know my desires**_

_Ir suledin var mah halam, vhenan. Ar dirtha vir’sulenehn. – **Endure it a little more, the end is still long ahead, my heart. I will speak the way of joyful song.**_

_Ar isalan rosas'da'din sul'em. – **I want you to come for me.**_

_-_

Solas stills instantly, his eyes wide, before coughing as he's blushing. Everyone else is rolling with laughter again. All things considered, it should not be so easy for her to shock, embarrass, or surprise him at every turn. It had been bad enough when she'd asked all those questions in front of him, knowing he couldn't react to a single one of them. He doubted he would ever think of that phrase in the same way ever again. Now she was openly saying things he'd only dreamed of whispering into her ear as he did things with her in his dreams he did not dare attempt in the waking world, and he could not keep his shock hidden.

“Did you get all that? Do you need me to say it again?” Alhasha asked, though if it is teasing Varric or making suggestions to Solas, he knows not.

“You plan on telling me what any of that means, Flint?” Varric asked, playfully.

“You never asked for translations, and I'm not feeling that generous, Dwarf. For all you know, I could be talking about the wash, like you said.” Alhasha teased. “ _Shaerodaer, saerol na air el samahla sul em_.” ** _Besides, teasing you is more fun for me._**

At that moment, Solas realized that maybe ignoring her at all had truly been a mistake, that maybe he should be more sure of her. As it turns out, Alhasha had a stubborn streak that was only rivaled by her playful nature, and she was putting both to work tonight. Someone had suggested a game of DiamondBack earlier, and while he was new to the game, he was skilled. Mentioning that had been a mistake too, but Blackwall told the story with laughter. Come to think of it, that's when Alhasha got a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He was sure of it now. She had to have Lavellan and Lady Montilyet helping her whittle away at his winnings. To be fair, he was still rather distracted with the things she had said…and the ideas that had put in his mind. Maybe this was payback for not paying attention to her before, or what Varric had said when they all found her, he didn't know. What he did know was that her 'tells' were very distracting, and now he wasn't even sure they were real tells.

She had a variety of them, and at first they had worked to his advantage, winning him several hands. She chewed on her bottom lip when she thought she had a bad hand, playing with her hair when she wasn't sure about her cards, and subtly pushing her breasts up as she leaned in when she thought she had a good hand. Now he realized that she had just been luring him into a false sense of security. With every round though, he thought he noticed a pattern, a tell within the tells, and he planned on using it. Occasionally he would get a look from the dwarf too, like he was trying to tell him which tells were actually tells and which ones weren't.

“Solas, I'm afraid that unless you plan on betting with your clothes, you have to step out of the game.” Alhasha said, grinning widely. “I'd be willing to take you up on it, if you're interested. It would give you a chance to earn back some of your coin, at the very least, maybe even your other shirt.”

Without even thinking about it, he jumped at the chance. “Be careful, Lady Hawke. I do believe I've discovered your tells.”

“My dear elf, you should know that a lady has no tells.” She teased. Montilyet can't seem to help herself, she's snickering so hard.

Several rounds later finds him a very sour elf. He'd realized all too late that he was not the hunter in this. He was the prey again…or rather the fish, as Alhasha had put it. While he was secretly thrilled with this, the reason why he was sour about it was because he was in front of several of the members of the inquisition, and he'd just had a thorough 'depantsing'. He's only got one article of clothing left, and he wasn't about to part with that. Varric is shaking with silent laughter, which is the last straw for Solas.

“Not a word, _Durgen'len.”_ Solas stated, an edge to his voice.

“Well, I think I'm going to call it a night. Thanks for the game, Solas.” Alhasha announced, with a wink and a cheeky grin, and left with her winnings…and his clothes.

When she was gone, Varric stopped trying to contain himself, and burst out laughing. “I tried to warn you, Chuckles. Flint is a cutthroat DiamondBack player when she feels she's been crossed.”

“When she's been crossed? I haven't–” Solas objected.

“You showed interest, and then took it away with no explanation.” Lavellan replied, bringing Solas up short. He _had_ done that…several many times now technically. “She told me all about that kiss at the hot springs, you know.”

“And here I thought Solas would remain a solitary monk forever.” Blackwall said, with a laugh. “Do tell.”

“Oh, it was wonderfully romantic. He found her in his dreams, after she'd called for help through them. He'd helped her escape that strange prison. They shared a kiss in a hot spring, and then he raced to rescue her from templars gone mad with red lyrium, only to ignore her completely once she was safe.” Lavellan said, smiling dreamily, though her tone had turned accusatory there at the end.

“She may be getting him back for something else. I saw them kissing when everyone had gone to bed, before we got back to Haven this last time.” Cassandra noted, casually. “Maybe he's ignored her or something since then.”

Varric turned to her, and asked. “You mean to tell me that you missed a perfectly good opportunity to tell me I wasn't going to have to eat my tunic?”

“You could do with being humbled, Dwarf.” Cassandra replied, sternly, though there was merriment in her eyes.

“That bet is probably still in the air anyway.” Lavellan replied, with a grin. “One or both of them could mess this up, and then you'd still have to eat your tunic.”

“Well, I'm going to go so that I don't have to see Solas's run of shame.” Varric grumbled, no doubt silently thankful that his tunic had been momentarily spared.

Everyone kind of cleared out after that, and left Solas with some semblance of modesty. There was going to be some kind of payback in store for this, he decided, because it had been a long time since he'd had a run of shame like the one he was in now. When he made it back to the building he'd taken for his own, he allowed himself to think on what Lavellan had said to him. Alhasha had confided in them, and they were very protective of her. He resolved that he was going to have to start paying better attention to this girl, if only to figure her out…and maybe get retribution for being depantsed.

-

Of course, Hawke couldn't resist trying on the clothes herself. What was the point of taking home the spoils if you couldn't enjoy them? Plus, she had a different bet to win. They were even more comfortable than she'd thought they would be. She fell asleep in them, enjoying the smell of him that clung to them.

The next day, she went looking for Iron Bull. Varric knew about the bet of course, so when he saw her traipsing about in Solas's clothes, he burst out laughing. She just winked at him, and grinned, on her way to the training grounds. She would return the clothes after this, she promised herself, even though she didn't want to do that. They were his clothes, and she had taken advantage of his pride to win them from him.

“Pay up, Bull.” Hawke declared, as she walked onto the training grounds.

“So you slept with him then? I'm surprised at you, jumping to sex so quickly.” Iron Boll teased, stopping his attack on the dummies.

“No. You bet that I couldn't get in his pants.” Hawke said, as she folded her arms in front of her, grinning that wolfish grin of hers. “As you can see. I am currently 'in his pants' as it were. Exact wording matters in a bet, Bull. Didn't Varric warn you?”

Instead of getting angry about it, Bull just laughs outright, and tosses the pouch to her. “So noted, Hawke.”

-

He'd been trying to find her all morning. For one, he needed to get those clothes back. For two, he'd decided to try and learn more of her. How did she know the things she did? Was her ability to hunt him a part of the spell he had cast all those years ago? She claimed to be a bad hunter, but she was doing a far better job than she gave herself credit for.

Solas did not expect to see her like that, wearing his clothes, walking around as if she did not care who saw her in them. She looked…delectable in them, even more so than she had in just his shirt before. Maybe…maybe he wouldn't need those clothes back, not if he got to see her walking around in them like that. She had that wolfish grin again, and his eyes narrowed in amusement, almost feeling sorry for the poor malefactors. Just what was she hunting now?

“Pay up, Bull.” Alhasha declared, as she walked into the training grounds.

“So you slept with him then? I'm surprised at you, jumping to sex so quickly.” Iron Boll teased, stopping his attack on the dummies.

“No. You bet that I couldn't get in his pants.” Alhasha said, as she folded her arms in front of her, still grinning. “As you can see. I am currently 'in his pants' as it were. Exact wording matters in a bet, Bull. Didn't Varric warn you?”

Bull just laughs outright, and tosses the pouch to her. “So noted, Hawke.”

He followed her when she left, wondering if she would change clothes now that she seemingly had no use for them. She never did. Instead, she seemed to dart all over Haven, doing all manner of things, before finally settling on the outskirts. She looked lost in thought again, something that seemed to happen more often than not now that the Mabari was gone. There was only one thing for it, and he hoped he could find it in time.

-

“When is her birthday?” Solas asked, coming from nowhere, nearly scaring Varric shitless.

“Look at you, all serious.” Sera noted, with a smirk. “You gonna squeeze up to her or not?”

“I think that might be what the birthday question is for.” Varric said to her, ( _to which Sera laughs_ ) then turned to Solas. “Look, Chuckles, her name day was about 4 months ago. You're out of luck there.”

“Is there some foolish human holiday, or gift giving occasion coming up? Something that makes this convenient?” Solas asked, frustrated, and ignoring Sera's comment.

“Satinalia is coming up soon.” Varric supplied. Solas looked at him as if he were waiting on something, more information, maybe. “Basically, it's masks, food, and parties. It's customary to give a gift. Lady Montilyet should be throwing something together for it. She's brilliant at that. Why? What do you have in mind?”

“Thank you, master Tethras.” Solas replied, clearly wanting to keep this to himself.

“So, you and the 'Champion of Kirkwall'. Interesting.” Sera noted, looking over to him.

“Your interest is not my concern.” Solas stated, in his usual aloof manner.

“Hey, Shiny, she's good. She really is. Helps the Red Jenny's when we need it, even if she's out there with all that magic bit, yeah?” Sera retorted, defensively. “She'd shiv a baddie as fast as she would set em on fire. I like that. I am a bit surprised at you though. I thought you'd go for an elfy elf.”

“That she is not surprises you?” Solas asked, confused.

“No. What surprises me is that you're with a sometimes elfy elf. When I asked her if she was an elfy elf, she said 'Depends on the day'. I like that too. I wonder if it has anything to do with her only being half an elf.” Sera replied, with a snort.

“If you two will excuse me, I have Lady Montilyet and the Commander to speak with.” Solas said, in parting.

“You think he didn't know about that, Buttercup?” Varric asked, quizzically.

“Why? Wanna bet on it, Inky?” Sera asked, with a smirk.

 


	8. Confessions and Secrets Shared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas is getting accosted by souls from the Fade now, specifically Alhasha's father. These Hawke's are something else. While he is dealing with things revealed to him, Hawke working out things for herself, and her interest in the Breach. The two have much to confess to each other, and Varric just has to show up at inopportune moments.

Chapter 8

 

He could always tell when something or someone else had created the world around him in the Fade. Currently, he was walking up to a small farmhouse. A human woman called out to someone he couldn't see, and then he realized that a small human, no, an elven man was walking beside him. The man was a mage, but used the staff like a walking stick. What surprises him most is the young girl that is running towards them.

“Father, you're home!” She squealed, and leaped for the man at his left. The man spins her around a few times, and sets her down. “Come on, Father! Mom made those cakes again, and she won't let me have one till you get in the house. So, come _on_ _!_ ”

“Ah, I see how it is now. I'm being used for sweets.” The man remarked, pretending to be put out. He burst out laughing when the little girl nodded enthusiastically. “I'll be in in a moment. I need to talk to someone first.”

“Okay. I'll go torture Carver! He's been an ab-sol-lute tit since you've been gone.” The girl said, smiling wickedly before she ran off.

“Be nice to your brother!” The man called after her, and then sighed. “I swear that girl is more than a handful sometimes…You can talk to me, you know. I did call you here, after all.”

“You are _Alhasha's_ father then.” Solas replied, in realization.

“Yes.” The man stated. “Though you are the first one to call her Alhasha to me. That is good. It means she trusts you enough with her name. Mind me asking how you managed that? I always introduced myself as Hawke, so that is what she did. You can call me Malcolm, by the way, so things don't get confusing.”

“I…she…She tricked me.” Solas admitted. “The mark on her ankle gave her the knowledge of how I am. It's the only explanation I have.”

“You mean arrogant and prideful?” Malcolm said, interrupting him.

“Do you want to hear how she tricked me or not?” Solas asked, causing her father to grin sheepishly. “She knew who I was, but wouldn't tell me how she knew that, and I didn't think about the mark…too arrogant and prideful to even consider it, I suppose…There's this grin she has…It was like she was hunting me instead, and I…I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you. You're her father.”

“It's a bit late to be bashful, don't you think?” Malcolm asked, chuckling.

“She…stole a kiss…after tricking me into jumping into the hot springs.” Solas admitted, looking anywhere else. “She told me her name when I demanded it. I later found out that she stole the kiss as a last request, because she thought I was there to kill her.” Malcolm burst out laughing.

“That's just too funny,” Malcolm remarked, coming down from his laughter finally.

“Why did you call me here?” Solas asked, looking to the man.

“You're ignoring her, and I want to know why.” Malcolm asked, frankly.

“I'm not…at least not anymore…sort of…Alright, I kind of still am, but…I'm thinking things through…There is a lot to consider, and deciding this is not easy.” Solas stated, looking at the area around them. “I always thought that I would have to set aside any personal wants until after my mistakes were corrected. She makes me question everything, and she doesn't hate me. After everything I've done, how could she not hate me? She looks at me like she understands, like she would have done the same.”

“You really have been thinking about this, haven't you?” Malcolm asked, in realization.

“Of course, I've been thinking about it. Even when I ignore her, I can't really succeed at it for long.” Solas said, frustrated and annoyed. “She should try to be with someone else. I can not give her that little cottage on the hillside.”

“You're assuming that's what she wants.” Malcolm stated, making Solas look over at him in confusion. “If she had wanted that kind of life, she could have easily married one of those frivolous dandies my wife tried to set her up with when they got to Kirkwall. She chose to fight, to free a city, to save her friends and family when she could. She would choose you, if you let her.”

“If she's with me, she would be hunted and hated. The world would think her a betrayer.” Solas said, shaking her head. “You can not possibly want that for her.”

“How easily you forget. She is already hunted and hated. The world already thinks her a betrayer.” Malcolm reasoned.

“It would be worse.” Solas argued.

“You sound like a man trying to make excuses.” Malcolm noted, bringing Solas up short. “What's the real reason you're so hesitant about her?”

“She should not want to be with me. She should not want what that means.” Solas said, trying to block out everything. “I do not deserve her.”

“Don't you think that's her choice then?” Malcolm asked, surprising him. “You're not the one that gets to decide if you deserve her, she is; and if she's willing to go through all of that for your stubborn ass, you should be willing to go through all of that for her, instead of ignoring her as you have been to try and make her hate you. Yeah, I know about that too.”

-

“ Come on, you. I need you for prank business.” Sera declared, looping her arm into Hawke's as if to steal her away.

“Oh? Who is it this time?” Hawke asked, glad for the distraction.

“Everyone.” Sera replied, conspiratorially.

The two had a blast setting up pranks all over the place. For Cullen, Sera suggested something brilliant. He was such a man of order, that simply unbalancing the chair just a touch would annoy him to no end. The best part is he wouldn't be able to tell for weeks, if at all. For good measure, Hawke rearranged the books in his shelves in a slightly different order every few books or so.

For Montilyet, Hawke actually suggested something magic based, which Sera wasn't interested in till Hawke explained. Montilyet was always about those reports, letters, and everything in between. So, Hawke suggested putting a spell on a stack of paper that would make anything written on it disappear after a few minutes, and reappear hours later. Sera begrudgingly admitted to liking it, but suggested they up the ante for Solas, something magic based so he'd notice but not be able to do anything about. Hawke's answering grin was absolutely feral.

For Solas, she suggested a bucket with water placed over the opening door to his building. It didn't seem like much, but Hawke explained that the bucket would always be supplied with water every time it was tipped, and that it would disappear once tipped and reappear at random times and locations throughout his small building. Sera was a little surprised, but laughed outright about the whole thing. As much as she feared magic, Hawke made it fun for her. The way she figured it, Hawke could always just kiss him till he forgave her and eventually dispel the bucket. There was also the added chance now that she could get hit by the spell too.

For Dorian, the two women set up drawers that would shoot out tons of glitter. These were conveniently the drawers he kept his wine stashes in. The play on words between that and Varric's nickname for the Tevinter mage just made things hilarious for them. For Varric, Hawke just put a spell on his quill, ink, and paper in order that no ink would stick to the pages. She included his backup quills in this, in case he switched anything out.

Sera really really wanted to shave Blackwall's beard in his sleep, but even Hawke didn't think they could pull that one off. So they opted to add a kind of hair removal solution to his shampoo. The Iron Bull was a tough one to figure out, but they finally worked out a prank that would suit him. Sera opted to putting beehives into the training dummies. Bull was always over there anyway, and it was widespread enough that a few others could fall into it too.

For Vivienne, Sera went and found some more of those poisonous lizards. It is what Vivienne would expect of her. Meanwhile, Hawke decided to put some kind of scentless adhesive inside that horned hat she wore sometimes, and sprayed a bit of it onto her pillow too. They each set off a bunch of lemon cleaning bombs in the room, just in case the adhesive wasn't completely scentless. They also made no effort to hide their laughter from her as they ran around the chantry, considering that she would know it was them anyway.

“Thanks, Sera. I needed this.” Hawke admitted, once they'd finally gotten everything completed.

“You've lost someone important, and getting angry this time won't help, but a laugh always does.” Sera replied. “So, you and Solas?”

“It's too new, Sera. I'm not even sure if we're a thing or not.” Hawke tried to explain, not quite knowing how to put it into words. “Half the time he still ignores me, or doesn't know what to say.”

“I've seen how he looks at you. You're in it, yeah?” Sera said, and then snickers. “Probably shouts elven glory when he does it. Drop 'em and rebuild the empire. _Phwaor!_ ”

“Sera!” Hawke exclaims, laughing so hard she can't seem to breathe. “We've not…I haven't…Sera!”

“You being both kinds, though. You think he'll have a problem?” Sera asked, as they made their way back to the Chantry.

“I don't know. I hadn't thought about it.” Hawke admitted. “Maybe? I don't know. I don't know why he should.”

“You tell 'em!” Sera exclaimed, happily. “You're a good one, Birdy.”

-

From that moment on, Hawke had known that the conversation was coming. He had distanced himself again, for what reason she did not know, but inquisition business meant that happened from time to time anyway. His prank had been a bit anticlimactic, dispelling it himself the second it triggered the first time, not even giving it a chance to disappear. That made her think of the other pranks, and how Sera had helped her get out of her sadness for a bit. The girl was an odd duck, but that was what made Sera…Sera.

Varric was still trying to figure out what had happened to his things, having ordered new stationary and everything to get rid of the problem. It has been weeks, and Cullen still couldn't figure out why something felt off, complaining about it as he mumbled to himself. Montilyet hadn't quite figured out the mess with her papers. Neither of the women had wanted to test Liliana, so nothing had happened to her. Both the Iron Bull, and Cullen found the bees…and while the Iron Bull laughed and went on, Cullen was not happy.

The look on his face though, was priceless, and his men learned never to laugh at him again. Dorian had refused pointblank to laugh at his, though he did shake as he chuckled silently when he thought they weren't looking. Blackwall…was… ** _pissed_.** He had discovered his hair coming out in chunks, only to learn his shampoo had been sabotaged. The beard remained unaffected, much to Sera and Hawke's dismay.

Vivienne couldn't even be mad at hers. The decoy of the poisonous lizards had worked, after all, and she hadn't questioned why the room smelled of lemons, assuming they'd pulled some odd kind of cleaning prank. Sera and Hawke laughed every time they saw her, when she discovered that she could not take off her hat. She'd gone to bed that night, thinking of ways to remove it, not wondering if anything else had been tampered with. Finding that her pillow was now stuck to her hat?…Priceless.

Here lately though, things seemed to be drawing to a close. Hawke wondered what would happen after that, and found herself standing before the Breach in silent study. There was something so strange about it, as if it called to her. It didn't, but there were whispers there all the same. She could almost touch it, the magic reaching out to react to her lyrium or her own magic, she did not know.

-

In the fade again…

 

“How did you know?” Solas asked, not even waiting, when he realized who had called him to this part of the Fade. “How did you know that everything would work out?”

“I didn't, but the risk was there to take, so I took it.” Malcolm replied. “You're an immortal being, and _this_ is what worries you?”

“Are you making fun of me?” Solas asked, in disbelief. These Hawke's were something else.

“I'm dead, and the father to the woman you're interested in. What are you going to do?” Malcolm asked, arching an eyebrow at him. He had a point.

“What do you suggest I do then?” Solas asked, giving up trying to be angry at this. “She's just as stubborn as me.”

“Then you should know exactly how to go about winning her over.” Malcolm replied, with a grin that reminded Solas of Alhasha. “Surely you know how to get around your own defenses, or do you just ignore the flaws in them and hope that they will go away?”

“Have you given a thought to that? To what I am? You said so yourself. I'm an immortal being. How exactly is a relationship between her and I suppose to work?” Solas asked, grasping at straws now.

“Surely you've lived long enough to realize that love finds a way around such boundaries.” Malcolm replied, like it was easy. “Besides, you weren't born immortal were you? It was realized within your original lifetime. Wasn't it?”

That was something that they had forgotten, or chosen to ignore, long ago. They were not invincible, but they were immortal, meaning they could be killed but could not die of natural means. Had he just said love? In all the time that Solas had been ignoring her, and then…not ignoring her, he had not considered that she had already wormed her way into his very being. Then again, why else would he be looking for a mabari pup for her?

“Love…” Solas said, his voice trailing off, and sat down. He had not considered this.

“Well what else did you think was happening to you?” Malcolm asked, chuckling. “Now, get going, and quit making excuses.”

-

Solas woke with a start, and looked around…Had her father actually kicked him out of the Fade to get him to talk to her? Shit, these Hawke's really were something else, the gall of them. That man had talked about love as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world to him. So Solas decided to walk to the Breach, passing several outposts on the way, in an effort to clear his mind.

That is how he found her, the object of his thoughts, cautiously testing the Breach, reaching out to it to feel the magic on her skin, and he knew instantly that clearing his mind was out of the question now. She looked absolutely ethereal as wispy green tendrils caressed her skin, igniting the lyrium in a soft blue glow. He has had the time, during one of the Herald's missions to the one of the farthest rifts, to think on what was revealed to him; not to mention those random Fade visits from her father. She is half one thing, half the other, and he can not understand how they can coexist in one being; yet there she stands, cautious and humble, tall and proud, existing peacefully as she is. He realizes her father is right, and can almost hear the man laughing at him in his mind.

“ _Ina'lan'ehn_.” Solas says, softly. **_Beautiful_.** She slowly turns to face him with a smile, her hand no longer reaching towards the breach, and her glow slowly dimming until it is gone. “Why do you reach for things that others choose to run from?”

“Flemeth gave me a good bit of advice once.” Alhasha replied, slowly making her way to him as he was to her. “' _The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment, and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly_.' Of course, she could shift into the form of a dragon, so…I'm not sure I should take her advice when it comes to leaping into things, or flying…”

“That must explain why you constantly run at something like you're part of the vanguard.” Solas teased, with a pleasant smile. “I have met no other mage that does this.”

“I was doing that before. Strange things constantly happen in my life. I had to adapt or die.” She said, putting it simply. “That just led to even crazier things. Suddenly I'm the Champion of Kirkwall, unwilling spark that ignited the Mage rebellion, and Fen'Harel still isn't sure he wants to flirt with me or not.”

“I would like to know more about these strange things that happen to you.” Solas replied, half asking, as the two sat on a bit of rock nearby. Her last comment was teasing, but it had a tinge of truth to it that he knew hurt her. “Tell me about your parents. How did they meet?”

“The way Father told it, it was love at first sight.” She explained. “The Circle he was a part of at the time was visiting Kirkwall, performing for some of the dignitaries, when he saw her. He told me it was like the crowd parted just for them. He found that this beautiful human woman called to his soul. To him, she was exotic. They ran away together…Listen, about the prank…”

“Sera's way of trying to cheer you up, no doubt.” Solas stated, putting her at ease. “It is strange to know that she is the farthest from what she should be, and yet her heart is the closest it could ever hope to be.”

“Don't tell her that. She might implode.” Alhasha said, with a snort. Her expression saddened, as if she'd thought of something unpleasant. “Solas…”

“I occasionally go on 'walkabouts' when I find that my travels keep me in large groups of people like this.” Solas explained, hoping the lie would hide what he was really doing. He did not need her discovering his plan just yet. “It has been some time since I have had someone to worry about me or miss me when I'm gone. My apologies, _Alhasha_.”

“It's not that…It's just that I…Well, I…I feel like such a liar…I really should have told you this before…” She admitted. She held up her right wrist, holding out an incredibly tiny chain out for him to see. “Do you know what this is?”

“This is **… _Alhasha_ …**this is age progression illusionary magic…highly advanced. Wonderful work.” Solas said, admiring the piece. “Why are you wearing this?”

“Father gave it to me before he died, said that I would need to lead the family. Since I was the youngest, he made me this. Bethany was too passive to lead, Carver had too big of a block on his shoulders, and Mother would be too deep in her grief.” She explained, fiddling with the bracelet, not meeting his eyes anymore. “I was **_twelve_** when we made it into Kirkwall, thirteen when Varric met me…he doesn't know that. I need to tell him…sixteen when I had to face down the Arishok, nineteen when Anders destroyed the Chantry…I'm not really sure how old I am now, on the run for so long, I kind of lost track…my best guess is twenty one, maybe older. I just…Everyone needed me to be something for them, and after a while…I've worn it for years…Fenris was the only one who knew.”

“Was he aware of it when you first met him?” Solas asked, curious.

“Not at first, and when I told him, he was beyond angry. Considering his previous history with mages, it wasn't a surprise to me that he'd get mad, and he was **_really_** mad.” Alhasha replied. “After he calmed down, though, he made me a deal. Teach him things free men were suppose to know, and I could hang out at his place and just be me without the bracelet. We looked out for each other after that. He became my brother.”

“Will you show **_me_** what you look like without it?” Solas found himself asking.

“You aren't mad?” She asked, confused, finally looking back up at him. “I've been hiding things from you while insisting that you not hide things from others!”

“ _Alhasha_ , you have always been worthy to know my secrets. That is, I believe, why you know them already. The spell that lead me to you would have given you access to them somehow, in an effort to combat my stubborn nature, no doubt. That part of myself has not changed much.” Solas replied, moving a bit of her hair out of her face. “I have not yet proven myself worthy to know yours. The spell would not have given me access to them.”

“When you entered the cell, the mark burned. I was a little too preoccupied to remember half forgotten stories my father told me.” Alhasha admitted. “When I touched your face, I saw…images, so many that I couldn't make sense of them all, at the time.”

“I had wondered if that was the case.” Solas said, thoughtful. “ _Alhasha_ , about the bracelet…do you still think you need to wear it?”

“No. It's mostly out of habit now.” She replied, playing with the bracelet a little.

He understood now. “This is what you meant by BarkSpawn being the last to remember. He was the last to see the little girl that was given this bracelet. Fenris only saw you once you'd made it to Kirkwall. Things had already begun to happen by then.”

She nodded, her eyes wide, before looking down at the bracelet again. He could tell this meant a lot to her, a gift from her father. She clinched her eyes closed, and took it off within the same breath. Solas's jaw hit the floor as he watched her hair spill out around her. The charm had hidden more than her age, it had hidden a lot of the wildness that she was.

Not much else had really changed. Life on the run had toned her too well for that. He couldn't stop running his fingers through her hair, like ink running through his fingers. Why the charm had hidden that, he did not know, but all thought fled his mind when she looked back up at him. Her eyes, as bright and deep as lyrium, were even more so now.

“ _Alhasha_ …” He said, softly, as he was drawn into them. “I have so…( _kiss_ )…many…( _kiss_ )…more questions…( _kiss_ )…I want to know **_everything_ …”**

-

Varric had been hunting for her all day, but it seemed that she had simply vanished. Flint had been hanging around Sera more lately, but not today. She had talked about going up to check out the Breach up close, but she wouldn't…Oh who was he kidding, of course she would. He still had to find Solas for Cullen too.

Thing was, he couldn't find Solas either. Would the fade obsessed elf realize that Flint would be so reckless as to go off on her own like that? He hoped so, otherwise the closed off elf would get a boot up his backside. Maybe he had already gone to the Breach to find her. That seemed likely, and he began to make to trek to the Breach.

Along the way, there were small outposts set up. Each one confirmed that both Flint and then Solas had made their way past them separately. He took comfort in knowing she was safe. He was getting too old for all this running around, or at least he felt like it. He had to stop and take a breath, though almost there, when he heard it.

“What makes you different, I wonder?” That was Solas! “The Herald can pull at the Fade to close the rifts, but what I saw you do…The Fade reached out to you as if you were an old friend.”

“Maybe if I had formal Circle training, I could tell you.” Good. Flint was okay. “As it is, I run on instinct and sarcasm, if you remember.”

“If you were Circle trained, you would not be here as you are to even make a guess.” Solas stated. Varric couldn't see them yet, but he could hear the worry and concern for such a fate. “A being such as you would have been made tranquil the moment they realized what you were, what you could do.”

“I know…” Flint seemed thoughtful, which was usually dangerous. “Oh, hey, listen. I want to give you something. Satinalia is coming up soon, and I don't even know if it's something you'd care to celebrate, but I have something for you anyway, and I'm impatient when it comes to gift giving. It's silly, I know, and you don't have to accept it, but I hope you do, and-”

“ _Na'ne eidysardi melahn na vasti_.” Solas said, with a chuckle.

“I am not adorable, and I do not ramble.” Flint denied. “You take that back, right now. I am a fierce and dangerous mage, nothing adorable about that.” Varric nearly snorted, practically able to hear her pouting.

“I am sorry, _Lath'in_. I take it back. You are most certainly not adorable.” Solas openly teased. (Wait. He can do that?) “You are… _palasha…ir'ina'lan'ehn…ei venuralas'lan…_ And you do not ramble. You…No, no, I can't take that one back. You really do ramble, _Lath'in_.”

“And here I was thinking about forgiving you too.” Flint replied, pretending hurt as she pouts, but that didn't last. “Why call me _Lath'in_?”

“Because, _Alhasha_ , I have decided. It is what you are to me. You are my _Lath'in._ ” Solas answered without hesitation. “Your father has actually been accosting…I mean, talking to me in the Fade, trying to convince me of my folly. He is right. I should not have tried to push you away as I have. It was not for you, to give you a choice to leave, as I tried to tell myself that it was. It was for my own selfishness, my goals, my secrets. I watched and ignored as it hurt you, to keep you just close enough to try and learn of you without getting involved, all while hoping that you would learn to hate me, but I can no longer stand by and do so. I was…I have been an **_ass_ _._** I am sorry I have been so distant since what happened that night. I have had much to think through.” ( _Perhaps his tunic was safer than he thought._ )

“Would you still like your gift? It's not time for Satinalia yet, but I thought maybe-” She was already rambling again.

“It is not necessary.” Solas replied, though his voice was more of acceptance.

“I think that's why they call them gifts.” Flint teased.

-

 _Palasha –_ **_attractive_ **

_ir'ina'lan'ehn –_ **_gorgeous_ **

_ei venuralas'lan –_ **_a goddess_ **

-

“Point taken, _Lath'in_.” Solas replied, with a grin.  ** _Love_**

He did not know what this would mean for his goals, being with her like this. Some of them had to be completed no matter what, but others…Could he maybe alter them somehow? If what he had to do caused her death, could he live in a world without her in it? He didn't want to test that out in order to know that now.

“It may not hold the weight of the Amell name anymore.” Alhasha said, placing something small in his hand. “But anyone who knows the name Hawke will know what that symbol is, and will know what it means for you to have it. If you're ever stranded somewhere without me, and need help, you show them this. If they would help me, they'll help you, if they can.”

When she removed her hand from his, he saw what she had given him. In his hand was a small ring, the kind used for stamping letters and such things, with a family crest on it that looked like the lines of two hawks flying. Instantly, he felt guilty. She was willing to help him, even when she didn't know the consequences of her choice. If the process had worked at the conclave, he would never have met her.

“ _Na shyr te min, sul'ema em min, eolasal ahn Ar ter, ahn Ar nuva tath nuvenin sai te?_ ” He asked, shocked.

**_You would do this, give me this, knowing what I did, what I may still need to do?_ **

“ _Vis na'shyr lasa em._ ” She said, softly. **_If you'd let me_**

“ _Ema ra virajun, Alhasha, Ar shyr tel'uth ema vhellem na. Na tyr vyrordia ema dinem, eil Ar shyr'ne sildearem_ ** _banal_** _ **.** Na shyr halani em, eolasal ra?_ ” He asked, not understanding. What kind of woman was this?

**_Had it worked, Alhasha, I would never have met you. You could possibly have died, and I would've felt_ nothing _. You would help me, knowing that?_**

“ _Ar sila…Vis Ar halani…nere Ar te'vina mylerol na shyr'tel sila or y…_ ” She replied, a bit nervous.

 **_I_ ** **_think…if I help…maybe I can find solutions you wouldn't think of otherwise…_ **

“ _Na shyr vor nar melin? Nar vaederarol? Garahnen?_ ” He asked, in disbelief. **_You would risk your name? Your reputation? Everything?_**

“ _Tamahn ane rahna eirdyr min tiralas ra ane geron si vor…_ ” She said, smiling softly.  ** _There are things about this world that are worth the risk…_**

“ _Alhasha…Ar'tel av'ahn saeri rahna or na._ ” He said, shaking his head. She can't really be offering this.  ** _Alhasha…I cannot ask these things of you_**

“ _Ra'air ahnsul ra'n lahnem ei en'an'sa._ ” She said, again, as she caressed his jawline. **_That's why it's called a gift_ _._**

-

“ _Lath'in_ _…Ar tel'paeraesi'na…_ ” He hears Solas, as if it is a vow, as if it meant his **_life_ _._**

He hears her whisper something, but can't make out what it is. As it is, he hasn't understood half the conversation anyway. Elvhen was not a language he'd picked up, though Daisy and Flint had tried to teach it to him several many times. He'd only wanted to check to make sure that Flint was safe, and now that he knows she is, he can leave. The only problem is, now he's too close, and they'll hear him leave.

The sounds he can hear her making are a new torture for him. Varric has always viewed his friend as an innocent, and anything shattering that image is bad, even if it wins him a bet. Should he stop them? Should he sit there quietly, and hope that nothing happens? Maybe the Maker will take pity on him, and smite him where he sits.

“ _On'ala av'ahnan taht_.” Flint moans. Solas chuckles, but it's muffled somehow, as if his lips are against her skin.

“ _Lath'in, Na myr'tel nu em mai_.” Solas says, sounding a _lot_ more predator like than Varric thought he could.

Just what in the Void were they doing? Varric can't stand it anymore, and practically leaps up, either to run away or stop them, but the sight before him makes him freezes him cold. Flint is straddling Solas's lap, with one of his hands up the back of her tunic. The other is securing her head, the elf's fingers entrenched firmly within her hair, while Solas is groaning and nibbling on her neck with great enthusiasm. Flint is clinging to Solas's neck with one hand, tentatively caressing the shell of his ear with the other, gasping under his attentions.

Solas leans back, looking into Flint's eyes with an intensity that Varric never thought he had. It dawns on Varric, just what kind of moment he's interrupting. The standoffish elf must have finally caved. This moment is a confession, an acceptance, and a plea all in one. However, when Flint smiles and begins kissing Solas as if she has taken charge of the situation, Varric decides that this is the limit of his ability to handle any more surprises of this nature.

“What in the Void do you two think you're doing up here?!” Varric can't help the words coming out of his mouth.

“ _Durgen'len,_ _Na'Masa_ _!_ ” Flint growled, angry and embarrassed, as she quickly stepped away from Solas.

Varric had no idea what that meant, but he was fairly certain that he'd just been insulted. All things considering, it was probably something about him being an ass, he knew he felt like an ass. He had a good idea he knew exactly what they would have been doing in about five minutes too, but now that he'd outed himself, the protective fatherly big brother instincts had been activated. However, he was not counting on Solas to look quite so threateningly angry. Flint sees this, and sighs, before turning back to Varric.

“Just how long were you over there listening in, Dwarf?” Flint asked, still just as angry, tears threatening to spill.

“I just…I didn't mean…No one could find you…I was worried…” Varric tried to say. “Need to talk to Solas.”

“Great. You two compare which is bigger, or the if you hurt her speech, and be done with it.” Flint growled, making her way past him. “Meanwhile, I'm going to go find a cliff to jump off of. Never been more humiliated in my life. Your name is forever _Masa_ , Dwarf.”

-

 _Lath'in…Ar tel'paeraesi'na… -_ **_Love…I do not deserve you…_ **

_On'ala av'ahnan taht_ – **_Best interrogating thus far_**

 _Lath'in, Na myr'tel nu em mai_ – **_Love, you shouldn't tease/hurt me so_**

 _Na'Masa –_ **_You ass_ **

_Masa -_ **_Ass_ **

-

“Are you intentionally being **_dense_ ,** Child of the Stone?” Solas asked, heatedly, very much liking Alhasha's new name for the dwarf. “Did you not check with each outpost to see if we were up here… _alone?_ Were they perhaps smirking, or snickering as you passed?”

“Yeah… _Shit_.” Varric cursed, as he realized he'd completely overlooked something that important. “Well, it's not like I can take it back now. So, since I'm here, I'm going to ask. What are your intentions with my friend, and what does _Lath'in_ mean?”

“That is not a conversation I am willing to have with you right now, Child of the Stone.” Solas growled. “As it is, I am inclined to agree with her. You _are_ an ass _._ ”

“That answers what _na'masa_ means at least.” Varric replied, not looking phased by his anger. “I didn't understand any of the elvhen you two were spouting to each other, but there are words I would like translated. She's my friend, Solas. Just because I've bet on the two of you doesn't mean I'm not going to grill you.”

“You have three questions, Child of the Stone.” Solas spat.

“What does _ei venura las lan_ mean?” Varric asked, struggling with the word.

“Ah, so that's how far back you were listening in.” Solas replied, with a smirk. “ _Ei venuralas'lan._ It means – a goddess.”

“What does _Ar tel pae ra esi na_ mean?” Varric asked, surprising Solas.

“You surprise me, master Tethras. Why do you ask about that one?” Solas asked, as they slowly made their way down.

“It sounded important, like a vow, or a promise.” Varric admitted.

“It was. _Ar tel'paeraesi'na._ It means, I do not deserve you.” Solas replied, impressed with how the dwarf did not seem to be wasting his questions. “I had thought you would ask about the Satinalia gift.”

“I know all I need to about that. It's the Amell crest, in some form or fashion. She doesn't give those out lightly either, and there's only one other person I can think of who even has one.” Varric replied, with a smirk.

“Fenris.” Solas answered, surprising the dwarf. “She explained more of their bond to me, that he is truly a brother to her. It would only make sense that she wish for him to feel like part of a family, by adopting him into her own in a way.”

“One last question, and then we find Flint.” Varric said, much to Solas's amusement. “Did she look younger to you, or was my eyes playing tricks on me? Her hair was never so long before.”

“That is something she wishes to tell you of herself.” Solas stated, brushing off the question. “I would suggest asking her when she is…not quite so…volatile, unless you wish to risk singeing your chest hair.”

-

“Hey, Dorian? You think I can cash in that drink now?” Hawke asked, as she made her way towards him.

“Sure thing, my dear, pull up a seat.” Dorian said, knowingly.

“So which one are we mad at?” Bull asked, sitting next to her.

“ _Delavir durgen'len_.” Hawke grumbled, clutching the tankard that was handed to her before taking a large drink from it.”Varric…I can't believe he'd do that to me…”

“Pay up, Kadan. I told you it wouldn't be Solas.” Bull said, with a smirk, before Dorian grudgingly handed over the coin. “So, what did Varric do?”

“He…he…” She couldn't bring herself to say it, and blushed furiously.

“Confessed his love to you? No, no, nothing that sordid. He loves Bianca too much anyway. Hmm, let's see now. Did he steal your small clothes for Sera? Ink in your tea? Interrupt a private moment?” Dorian mused, rattling off several guesses, until that last one made Hawke blush even more than she was already.

“Looks like that one's a winner.” Bull noted. “Question is what _kind_ of private moment?”

At this, Hawke decides to disappear into the tankard.

“Oh dear. We're gonna need another drink.” Dorian says, realizing by now just what kind of private moment got interrupted. “Well, I suppose there's nothing for it. We have to kill the dwarf.”

“What?” Hawke asked, looking over to him, confused.

“If he saw you and Solas naked, dear, either Solas kills him or we do.” Dorian replied. “Those are the rules. Shame really, I rather liked that dwarf too.”

“It wasn't that. It could have been, but…Well, we'll never know now, now will we…” Hawke said, depressed, looking into the tankard. “We were up at the Breach. I'd went alone to inspect it again, when he found me…There was romantic confessions, kisses, and the way he held me…rough hands, soft touch, possessive and gentle all at the same time…it was nice. Got interrupted by that fucking cock blocking _masa_ of a dwarf, and I bolted. Solas probably hates me now, because Varric is an idiot, and I'm an inexperienced _bartuasha'te'lanem_.”

“Alright, well I'm going to pretend to understand what that big long elvish word means later. Solas doesn't hate you, not if your neck is any indication. Those are some prominent love bites, my dear, if I do say so myself. I never knew he had it in him. He must be one of those quiet but passionate types, all buttoned up till you get him alone.” Dorian teased, slightly. “Everyone has at least one stupid friend, or one awesome friend who does something monumentally stupid. So, you're in the clear there too.”

“Then where _is_ he? Why didn't he chase after me when I ran off?” Hawke asked, dropping her head to the table.

“My guess? Telling Varric he's an idiot, or checking on the status of your Satinalia gift. He's been trying to keep that secret, even from me.” Bull concluded, after a moment. “If you want, I can go hunt him down for you.”

“Don't kill him, kay?” Hawke asked, with a halfhearted smile. “I like this one.”

“Of course, Hawke, then you can tell us about all the long hair.” Bull teased, before he left.

-

 _Delavir durgen'len_ – **_Stupid dwarf_**

 _bartuasha'te'lanem_ – **_Female virgin_**

-

“Commander, I'm glad I caught you.” Solas called out, as he moved at a brisk pace to get to him.

“I was actually about to send for you, Solas, but Varric said he'd find you for me.” Cullen replied, seeing how hurried Solas was.

“So it's here then?” Solas asked, serious now. “I suppose that interrupting dwarf did me a favor. Not that I'll be telling him that.”

“Yes, stored away for the moment. I must say, I'm surprised you wanted one.” Cullen admitted, as they made their way.

“It is not for me.” Solas stated, his voice grave now. “Hawke is…”

“I understand.” Cullen said, before Solas could say anything else.

“Oi, Solas!” Iron Bull called out, as he made his way towards them. “What in the name of the Void do you think you're doing?”

“Getting a Satinalia gift for Lady Hawke, if you really must know, Iron Bull.” Solas sighed, in frustration, as they continued on their way.

“You're giving her the Commander for Satinalia?” Iron Bull asked, acting clueless, giving Cullen a once over with his eyes. Solas shook his head and sighed again, while Cullen just blushed uncontrollably. “Not a bad idea, I suppose. He'd clean up nice too, but I don't think Hawke will go for that, especially not after the way I just heard her describe _you_.”

“Not that I have to explain any of this, but I had to go through the Commander to get the gift that I will give Hawke. Apparently it's very…Fereldan.” Solas replied, frustrated and annoyed. “Now, what do you want, Iron Bull? I assume you did not come here simply to accost us, and embarrass the Commander.”

“Yeah, Hawke is at the Singing Maiden. I don't think I should have to tell you that an upset Hawke at a Tavern is a very bad thing.” Iron Bull stated. “She told me enough that I don't have to guess why she's upset. She thinks you hate her, because you didn't chase after her after she left because she was embarrassed, and Varric is an interrupting idiot. So, I'll see you back at the Tavern then.”

When Iron Bull was away, Solas returned his thoughts to his current task. “I'm afraid that I'll have to be quick about this, Commander. Something tells me I'm going to have a lot of trouble here in the near future.”

“Here you go. It's still under the age of Imprinting, but I wouldn't wait too long.” Cullen said, handing him several bags. “There's some beef jerky, and a few other odds and ends to make things easier. Trust me, you'll thank me later. Now go, before Bull gets her to try that horrid Qunari brew.”

-

“You're going to have to try harder than that, Dorian.” Hawke giggled, slamming down a glass. “This weak stuff isn't going to do anything to me.”

“I think I can fix that.” Iron Bull said, setting down a glass of something dark. “Just a small glass for you though.”

“What? Don't think I can handle a tankard, Bull?” She challenged, grinning at him.

“Tell you what, Hawke, if you can drink this, I'll give you a tankard of it.” Iron Bull amended, smirking as Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Deal!” She declared, and downed the glass. “Bull! That taste like ass!…Oh my…I can't…I can't feel my tongue! What is in this? I want another one!”

“It's still going to taste like ass, darling.” Dorian advised.

“I know, but I can't feel my tongue, and it's fascinating.” Hawke admitted, bursting with laughter, before downing the tankard. “Bull, you still haven't told me what this horrid stuff is. Don't think I haven't noticed, _ma falon_.”

“I believe we have finally found someone that can stand up to you, Amatus.” Dorian said, watching her with amusement. “She just spoke full sentences and everything, after drinking that swill. I can't decide if this is a good thing or not.”

“Only one way to find out.” Iron Bull replied, setting down several more tankards. Hawke just grinned that wolfish grin of hers, and the contest began.

-

 _ma falon –_ **_my friend_ **

 


	9. Revealing a Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He learns even more about her, things he could not have learned had he kept her at arms length like he had been. An explosion, an instinct to protect, and that damned interrupting dwarf again, is how he meet Fenris, the adopted brother of his Lath'in. How is he going to explain this?

Chapter 9

 

By the time that Solas was actually able to make it back to the Tavern, a party was in full swing. Singing and dancing were in full swing, and somewhere in this mess, he could hear Alhasha. She was laughing, but he'd never heard her laugh like this, giggling even. He quietly moved through the throng of people as he searched for her, and when he found her, he wasn't sure what to think. She was sitting on the Iron Bull's shoulder, holding onto one of his horns, as she was singing along with the Chargers.

“ _No one can beat the Chargers 'cause we'll hit you where it hurts._

_Unless you know a tavern with loose cards and looser skirts!_

_For every bloody battlefield, we'll gladly raise a cup._

_No matter what tomorrow holds, our horns be pointing up!”_

“Hawke, I have to ask, what kind of horn is that that you have?” Iron Bull asked, eyeing her drinking horn.

“The Arishok's…Well, one of them anyway.” She giggled. “After having his greatsword in my stomach, I figured it couldn't hurt to drink from the skull of my enemy, after having it properly treated, of course. Want one? I have another.”

“Would you really?” Iron Bull asked, his mouth hanging open in rare shock.

“Happy Satinalia!” She shouted, happily, shoving the horn towards him. “Solas! Solas, you need to try this drink! It's _awful!_ ”

“I think I shall pass this time, _Lath'in_.” Solas replied, with a slight grimace. It appeared that The Iron Bull had already given her that Maraas-Lok.

“Let me set you down.” Iron Bull stated, setting Alhasha down on a bench.

“Now, Bull, I thought we established that my legs don't work anymore.” Alhasha said, seriously, before laughing outright. “If they don't start working again soon, we'll never be able to try that idea of yours.”

Solas arched an eyebrow, and waited.

“Ah, Mayhem.” Iron Bull chuckled, like he was thinking on a fond memory.

“I wouldn't worry too much, Solas. It seems Bull has roped Hawke into an idea of his.” Dorian said, when he saw his confusion. “Apparently, they want to throw her over enemy lines, so she can 'set their collective asses on fire', if my understanding is correct.”

“You're suppose to say it like it's fun!” Alhasha scolded, before breaking out into a grin. “Ah, Mayhem.”

“As much fun as that sounds, it's late, and we need to get you home.” Solas said, gently.

“Well then, We've got a long trek back to Kirkwall, or an even longer one back to Fereldan, or is the other way around? My geography is terrible.” She rambled.

“ _Aelael min, Lath'in, na'vasti_.” Solas said, with a chuckle. “Let's get you to your room, _Lath'in_ , you need sleep.” **_Even now, love, you ramble._**

“I do not ramble. I just talk…enthusiastically…a lot.” Alhasha denied, pouting.

“ _Ra'n tel thu Ar itha ra._ ” Solas teases, not missing the way both Dorian and Iron Bull have gone slack jawed at that. **_That's not how I see it._**

“Hoc possum adepto ut biberent.” She said, looking to Dorian.

“I'll take that bet.” Dorian stated, with a wicked grin, in reply.

“What did you just say, and since when can you speak Tevene?” Solas asked, feeling as if the situation were about to get out of his hands soon.

“ _Ei dosan annara_.” She replied, before taking another drink. **_A few years._**

“ _Lath'in_ …”

He was about to ask her what she thought she was doing, but before he could, she had leaped up out of her seat and began to kiss him. Surprised though he was about her public display, he did not have it in him to deny her, and wrapped his arms around her to bring her closer to him in response. He had thought her to be more private in her affections, but he realized he had many things to learn when it came to her…That's when it hit him, the rush of liquid, her massaging his throat, and the involuntary swallow. She'd…she'd tricked him into drinking that horrid Maraas-Lok!

“Ahck! That was…” He snapped, and then the confusion hit him. “…I can't feel my tongue.”

Iron Bull bursts out laughing. “That's one way to get him to try it.”

“ _Fenedhis Lasa!…_ That was…of all the… _Thes'ra_ ” Solas growled, giving up trying to speak at the moment.

Instead, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a rather enticingly shaped bag of potatoes. This, of course, sent Bull and Dorian into more fits of laughter. He ignored them, and made his way out of the tavern. Sera opened the door for him, but not before snickering to herself at the sight they made. Alhasha just waved at everyone, and tried to get someone to rescue her.

“Too late to stop the Maraas-Lok, I take it.” Cullen sighed, seeing them.

“She…tricked me…I can't feel my tongue.” Solas admitted, glad that he was at least able to speak again.

“Does she have her key?” Cullen asked. “I can open the door for you if she does.”

“That would be…much appreciated.” Solas replied, a bit frustrated at how much effort it took to say that.

Thanks to the Commander, Solas was able to get into her room. Strange, though, how the man quickly vacated the area after that. He had been wondering why Alhasha hadn't been objecting more, and when he slung her onto the bed, he got his answer. She was asleep, having passed out on the way to her room. He would never admit it to her, but that had been an amusing trick, getting him to drink the Maraas-Lok with a kiss.

Suddenly, he realized that he was very tired himself. Alhasha looked peaceful sleeping as she was, and he found that he could not resist joining her. He got into bed, pulling the covers over them both, before wrapping one of his arms around her. She rolled over to face him, snuggling into him instinctively. He fell asleep within moments, feeling more at peace than he had in a long time.

-

Google translate latin for tavene

Hoc possum adepto ut biberent – Bet I can get him to drink this.

-

 _Thes'ra –_ **_Fuck it_ **

-

She woke up the next morning feeling oddly fine for someone who'd had a drinking contest with an alcohol tolerant qunari. She made a mental note that parties like those should be a rare occurrence…just to be on the safe side. Groaning, she opened one eye slightly to gauge where she was at. She was surprised to find herself in her own room, figuring that she would have been under one of the tables in the tavern or something with crude drawings of body parts everywhere. When she rolled over, she was surprised to see Solas looking rather amused at her, and eyed him suspiciously for a moment.

“It's not fair.” She said, after a while, her eyes still narrowed as she looked at him.

“What is not fair, _Lath'in_?” Solas asked, softly.

“You have absolutely no bed head.” Hawke said, in an accusatory manner, as she grinned.

“Do not worry. You appear to have enough bed head for the both of us.” He murmured, kissing the top of her head. “ _Alhasha_ , why did you run away yesterday? What happened?”

-

Whatever the answer, whatever the reaction he had expected, it wasn't this one. All of a sudden, Alhasha simply went beet red from embarrassment. She shook her head, and buried her face in his shirt. This was not the confident woman he had grown accustomed to, though she still perplexed him. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she was embarrassed now.

“It can't be _that_ bad.” He insisted, kindly.

“I beg to differ.” She muttered, not looking up at him. “It's worse.”

“ _Lath'in_ …Surely this can't have been the first time you'd gotten caught in such a compromising position.” He said, trying to sooth her. He could practically feel the heat radiating from her face now. _Fenedhis!_ “It is?”

“Oh, it gets better than that.” She mumbled.

“What do you mean 'it gets better than that'?” Solas asked, now intrigued. She mumbled something even he couldn't understand, and he had to ask her to repeat it.

“I _said_ _,_ I didn't just steal the kiss from you at the hot springs, I stole my **_first_** kiss.” Alhasha mumbled, just barely loud enough for him to be able to hear.

Her first kiss? It made no sense, not with the way she looked, or how playful she was, _certainly_ not with the kisses he remembers receiving from her. What kind of woman goes through life never knowing what a kiss feels like, only to turn around and dare to steal one from Fen'Harel? Because that's exactly what she'd done. She'd known who he was, what he had done, and had brazenly stolen a kiss from him anyway.

“ ** _Lath'in_** …if things had continued further that night…I could have hurt you.” Solas said, realizing the state of mind he'd been in that night...or yesterday for that matter.

“The kiss was foolish…impulsive…reckless…” Alhasha began.

“Exactly what I was going to do, had you not stolen it first.” Solas admitted, moving just so that his upper body is slightly above her own. “Ill considered though it may have been.”

“I'm glad I stole it.” She teased, grinning up at him.

There is no response he can think of that covers this, and so he doesn't give one. Instead, he finds himself lost in her eyes again. They will always remind him of how lyrium shines, especially after that night in the hot springs. He says nothing as he gives her a gentle kiss, slowly leading her into a deeper more passionate one. The buttons of her shirt are almost undone by the time he's thought to undo them.

She gets rid of the garment herself when she notices. By then he is looking at the scar running along the length of most of her stomach, the one he had noticed on her back before, and he can tell she's only just now thought about what his reaction would be to it. This is not the type of scar a mage would normally have, but then Alhasha is not as other mages are, and he is no longer surprised that she would choose to stand alone against an Arishok. He can not help but run his fingers over the scar, planting little kisses along as he goes. It is how he discovers something he had not thought to ask her the night before, Alhasha Hawke is ticklish, and her laughter is soft and light in this moment as if she is trying to stop it from escaping.

“So…'The Champion of Kirkwall' is ticklish.” He says, thoughtfully, with his own wolfish grin. “I wonder who would pay to know such information.”

“You wouldn't!” She squealed, laughing as he ran his fingers over another spot.

“I might.” Solas says, his hand traces a pattern up her back as he kisses her again.

Before he can get to the breast band she wears, he hears a click…one he has long ago associated with explosions. He springs into action, instinctively covering her body with his own. She has heard the click too, and throws up a barrier a split second before there is a resounding boom throughout the space. They can both hear the debris falling around them. They stare at each other, wide eyed, as they realize they have both instinctively tried to protect each other without hesitation.

“Are you alright, _Lath'in_?” He asked, when the ringing dies down in his ears, unable to stop himself from touching her face as if to check to see if she really is alright.

“I think so. You?” She asked, as her hands caressed his face as if to check that he was real again.

He nodded, but did not answer her otherwise, and rests his forehead against her own. His thoughts are running so fast he can't catch them all. Was Haven under attack? If they were, why hadn't they heard anything before now? Was someone after him, or worse, her?

-

“At least now I know why you wanted in here so badly, Dwarf.” Dorian chided, as Varric now looks like he'd eaten several lemons.

Solas and Hawke are in bed together, his body covering her own protectively, their foreheads touching, each touching the others face as if to see if they were alright. Solas had been shaking until he heard Dorian speak, but stilled and looked over to them, looking absolutely feral in his anger. Dorian no longer has to wonder what an angry Solas might look like, but instead of lashing out at them, Solas turns back to Hawke and whispered something to her. Dorian took this time to look over to Varric. He almost felt sorry for him.

“I would tell you to run, you know, but your legs are so short that I don't know if it would matter in the slightest.” Dorian chided, teasingly.

“Hawke would kill him regardless.” A new arrival noted. “I'm assuming it's Hawke, unless there's someone else in there who can make him look that green.”

Hawke must have recognized the voice, because she shot out of bed faster than lightning, and tried to find her shirt. Dorian couldn't help but notice that both Hawke and this dark skinned elf had the same kind of lyrium tattoos. If this is who he thought it was, things were about to get a lot more interesting around here, and they already had a hole in the sky to contend with. He wondered how Solas would handle this new arrival. He wouldn't have to wonder that for long.

-

“Is there any **_particular_** reason the two of you could **_possibly_** give for deciding to destroy her **_room_ _?!_ ”** Solas asked, his voice clearly portraying his foul mood, as he looked at the pair of them.

“It wasn't suppose to do that.” Dorian insisted. “Hawke, Solas, I'm sorry. I should have realized.”

“Yes, you **_should_** have, especially after that stunt you and Iron Bull pulled yesterday.” Solas snapped, angrily. “What were you thinking, Dorian? **_You_ ,** at least, should know better than to break into a **_mage's_** room with a **_spell!_** That blast could have killed us, and you, had she not thrown up a barrier at the last second.”

“Who are **_you_ _?_ ”** Called out a gravelly timbre like voice of the new arrival.

Solas turned to face him, fully intent on blaming him for this too, when he saw who it was and his anger froze where it was. Emerald green eyes, shock white hair, dark skin, and lyrium tattoos like his _Lath'in_. This was the one she considered her brother, and **_this_** was how he was to meet him. Solas shook his head in both indignation and annoyance. This is not how he wanted this meeting to start.

“You're Fenris?” Solas asked, surprising the elven male though not for long, and gave a tired sigh. “I would have prefered us to have met under better circumstances. Hawke speaks quite highly of you as her brother.”

“That does not tell me who you are.” Fenris said, warningly.

“You may call me Solas, if there are to be any introductions.” He replied, trying not to get annoyed at him. Alhasha would not appreciate a fight between the two so early.

“This _is_ Hawke's room then?…” Fenris asked, looking to the destroyed wall, Solas nodded. “Dwarf, you will explain your actions, now. Why did you conspire with the son of a Magister to destroy her room?”

“Fuck, it's like having two of Broody in the same place.” Varric grumbled, more to himself than anyone else. “I really should have reconsidered writing to you.”

“In my defense, the spell was only suppose to unlock the door.” Dorian supplied.

“Then you are unaware of Hawke's various security measures, Tevinter.” Fenris practically sneered. “As this man has stated, you are both lucky that you are not dead. After dealing with a naive blood mage, a whorish pirate, a rogue story teller, and a possessed grey warden, did you **_really_** think she'd not have defenses in place?”

“I get it, I get it, I'm in trouble.” Varric grumbled. “It wouldn't be the first time, and you've got some explaining of your own to do, elf.”

“Don't pin this on me, Dwarf, I'm not the one who was foolish enough to try and break into Hawke's room.” Fenris scoffed. “Besides, what in Andraste's name could I possibly have to explain to you…oh…Hawke?…Hawke!”

It was his last reaction that caused Solas to turn around towards the gaping hole in her room. Alhasha was standing there, after having found her shirt, the effects of the bracelet gone since yesterday. The second she saw Fenris, she squealed with happiness, running past Solas to hug him. Fenris had not been prepared to see her like that, without the bracelet to make her appear older, but hugged her back. It was clear to Solas that she had been afraid she would never see her 'brother' again.

“I doubled back once I lost the blood mages, but when I got back, you were gone.” Fenris said, into her hair. “What happened, Hawke?”

“There were more. I had to run.” Alhasha replied, still hugging him. “I tried to find you after, but…I got caught. I'm sorry.”

“I hate to spoil the moment, _Lath'in_ , but we are beginning to draw in a crowd.” Solas supplied, gently, seeing the people beginning to gather. “Perhaps we can take this meeting to The Singing Maiden while Dorian and master Tethras clean up their mess.”

“Wait, why do we get stuck missing out on the meeting?” Varric huffed.

“Consider it suitable punishment for the destruction of her room, and what you did yesterday, Child of the Stone. Do not think I have forgotten about that, or that I would let such an offense go unpunished.” Solas said, thin lipped. “It would serve you well to miss out on something you deem worthy for the character development of your friend fictions.”

“He's still doing that?” Fenris asked Alhasha, who only nodded in response. “What did the dwarf do yesterday?”

“That is part of a conversation best had somewhere else, Fenris.” Solas insisted, with a sigh. This was already not going well.

-

The room at the Singing Maiden was much like Varric's Polatial Suite. Once inside, Hawke began maneavuering her hands in familiar motions to cancel out outside noise and keep them from being heard. What he was not expecting, what he should have expected, was for the other one to start casting magic to seal the windows too. He should have expected this, having seen that the place was crawling with mages. It made the lyrium in his skin itch.

“What is the meaning of this, Hawke?” Fenris asked, pointing to Solas. “I thought after the last one, you had sworn off other mages attempts for you.”

“This one doesn't come with feathers.” Came her signature snarkiness. “Or mage manifesto's in every third page of whatever book I happen to have, and he has yet to promise to drown a city in their blood to keep me safe.”

“I will assume this is about Anders then.” Solas stated, sitting down. “ _Lath'in_ , perhaps you should not goad him so this time. He does not appear to have much patience left, and he has had a difficult journey no doubt.”

“What happened yesterday that Varric would be in trouble with the both of you?” Fenris asked, wasting no time.

“He interrupted what should have stayed a private moment.” Solas said, his mood darkening. “There is not a lot of privacy to be had around Haven, so when you find a moment of it, you cherish it. We were sharing secrets not meant for his ears.”

“Are you responsible for her no longer wearing the bracelet?” Fenris asked, glaring at the mage sitting across from him.

“That happened yesterday, yes.” Solas answered. “She plans to tell master Tethras soon, though he should have gathered quite a bit of it on his own by now.”

“Why do you call him Master?” Fenris asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I am…old fashioned in many respects. It is simply an acknowledgment that he is the head of the Tethras family, not anything subserviant.” Solas replied.

“Are you after her for the lyrium in her skin?” Fenris asked, ignoring Hawke's glare now. “It would not be the first time a mage has tried.”

“No, though I doubt my saying so will sway you, and any declarations I make at this point would only seem empty and meaningless.” Solas replied. He was right, Fenris was not swayed.

“I've told him about Anders, Fenris. He understands.” Hawke said, in a pleading tone. “Please, I want you two to try to get along.”

“No one is dead yet. That is a start.” Fenris answered, gruffly.

“True.” She admitted.

“How did you meet each other?” He asked, looking to each of them.

Hawke bristled at this line of questioning, which meant this was bad. Just who was this mage? There was a secret that those two shared that she could not tell him. He knew the lengths she would go to protect a secret. He noticed that the other mage looked to her in concern, and could also see where her mind had gone.

“I don't know if I can tell you that.” She admitted.

“You don't know if you can tell me that?” Fenris asked, confused and angry. “Why wouldn't you be able to tell me that? It should be simple.”

“Secrets are never simple, Fenris, especially when they aren't mine.” She tried to explain. “You know this.”

“You expect me to be okay with this, with the two of you being together, when you can't even tell me how you **_met_ _him?_** ” Fenris asked, incredulously.

Solas sighed, and gently turned her face to him. “ _Na dhrua ail ish ra'el?_ ”

“ _Is'n ara isa'ma'lin_.” Hawke replied, softly. “You don't have to, Solas, not for me…” 

“ _Vis tel'sul'na, melahn'an ehn sul, Lath'in?_ ” Solas asked, and something seemed to pass between the two. Before he could ask what was being said, Solas turned back to him. “What is said in this room does not leave it. No matter what is said, whether you believe it or not, no matter what the dwarf or anyone else may offer or threaten you with. Do I have your word, Fenris?”

“Seeing as how I will not get the story without it, I see no other way to proceed than to give my word.” Fenris acknowledged. “But know this, Mage. Should I deem you a threat to her, I will kill you where you sit, without a second thought. Is that understood?”

“I would expect nothing less than that from the one she deems as her brother.” Solas replied, respectfully. It was odd to be so regarded by a mage, even after all this time.

“Then let's get started.” Fenris replied. “How did you two meet each other?”

“Essentially, a spell, one I had cast many centuries ago.” Solas explained. _Centuries?_ “It was foolish to create such an important spell for the reasons of getting the others to leave me alone, but it worked, both then and now. I just did not realize it would take so long to find her.”

“I…don't understand.” Fenris stated, not liking this already. _Did he just say centuries?_

“The mark on her ankle.” Solas said, eyeing him. “It is not a birth mark. It is a locator spell, designed to find qualities no **_one_** woman should possess, to find the one that could be my mate.”

“The birth mark…that thing on your ankle that Merrill insisted meant that you were **_cursed_ _?!”_** Fenris asked, looking to Hawke. She nodded, as she bit her lip.

“I am surprised any one knows of it.” Solas said, sounding tired. “It was a spell I used one time, many years ago, and never thought of again…not till I saw her sitting in that cell.”

That caught his attention too. “That Cell?”

“When I had to run, I ended up being caught by red lyrium templars.” Hawke admitted. “I don't know how long I'd been there, but eventually he just showed up in the cell with me from out of nowhere. The mark on my ankle burned, but I was a bit too focused on trying not to die, to remember what my father told me about it. Solas helped me escape.”

“Hardly, you did most of the work, _Lath'in_. You are the one who broke out of the cell, and freed the others when the guard showed up. All I did was free a Mabari, and give you my shirt.” Solas objected, passively. “I am still uncertain as to how my mask also got to you. It shocked and angered me at first, seeing you with it, _Lath'in,_ but it suits you. You wear it well.”

“Your mask…” Fenris stated, as he instantly paled. _So, he'd meant it when he said many centuries._ “That mess was **_your_** fault?!”

He made to charge Solas, but was held back. Hawke looked at him pleadingly. Every instinct in him was screaming to kill this man, but Hawke pleaded with him to listen. He looked to the unassuming mage that had claimed the mask Hawke wore, the mark on her ankle. Fenris sat down, but he had one question before anything was to continue.

“Does the spell make her **_care_** for you too, Mage?” Fenris growled, angrily. “Do you have her under a spell for that as well?”

 **“ _Fenris_ _!”_** Hawke gasped.

“ _Lath'in_ , it is a fair question for him to ask, do not be angry at him for that. There are spells that can mimic such things for a time, and it is what I feared you would think of me.” Solas said, trying to calm her down, before turning to Fenris. “To answer your question, Fenris, no. The only thing the spell was designed to do was **_find_** her. When it did, when it revealed her to me, I panicked. I pushed her away, ignored her entirely at times. It was selfish of me, to impose that choice on her without explaining what had happened, but I felt it best at the time. I have made many mistakes in my life, some of which I am still trying to correct, ignoring her will no longer be one of them.”

“Why?” Fenris asked, barely keeping his anger at bay.

“BarkSpawn.” Solas admitted, leaning back with a defeated sigh. “That damned Mabari knew me the moment he saw me, I'd wager. When I tried to ignore her, he started hanging around me, forcing her to find me to find him. It was as if he saw the connection between our souls, and would not let me ignore it. I owe him a debt I may never be able to fully repay.”

“Varric told me what happened, Hawke. I'm sorry.” Fenris said, remembering the contents of the letter now. “Wait…After Leandra died, we sparred to vent the rage. Who?…(he looked to Solas, who had started rubbing the bridge of his nose) _…_ ** _You_ _?”_**

“She broke my nose, pushed me through a wall, and I think at one point she may have set me on fire.” Solas replied, thinking back on it. “She attacked me because I wouldn't leave her alone to die, and then tried to get me to…”

“Why were you in her room?” Fenris asked, deciding to digest the rest of that later. He knew what Solas had been about to say.

“Varric interrupted a private moment yesterday, as I have already mentioned, and while I was dealing with him, she left. I found her later, on top of one of Iron Bull's shoulders, hanging on to one of his horns and singing drinking songs.” Solas replied, ruefully.

“It wasn't **_that_** bad.” Hawke objected, lightly.

“You gave him one of the Arishok's horns.” Solas stated, making her bite her lip. “And you had apparently drank so much of that maraas-lok, that you couldn't feel your legs anymore.”

“I wasn't drunk though, and I was issued a drinking challenge.” Hawke muttered, in her defense.

“By an alcohol tolerant qunari that knew you were upset.” Solas countered.

“I'm pretty alcohol tolerant too, you know. You're just sore because I tricked you into drinking it too.” She teased, a last defense then. It worked, because Solas was the one blushing now.

“That was a low blow, and you know it, _Lath'in_.” Solas said, dejected.

“How did she-?” Fenris asked, not understanding.

“A kiss.” Hawke replied, impishly.

“Let me get this straight. You tricked the equivalent of a would-be elven god into drinking Maraas-lok with a **_kiss_?”** Fenris asked, trying to wrap his mind around that.

“That wasn't the first time she'd caught me with a kiss like that.” Solas admitted, begrudgingly, the blush on his face slowly darkening. “Lavellan started a betting ring before that incident in the hot springs.”

“You can't blame me for that. You told me this morning you were going to steal one before I did.” Hawke teased. This was going to take some getting use to. His head hurt already.

“Hawke…” Fenris trailed off, not knowing what to say now.

“What? He just…kept…showing up. I thought he was hunting me, or that he was there to kill me.” She admitted, and Solas hid his face in one of his hands. “What else was I suppose to do?”

“Most people would have answered me, told me whatever I wanted to know, and then begged me not to kill them.” Solas grumbled, the blushing still obvious…and getting darker all the time, his forehead still resting in his hand. Just what did she **_do_** to him? “They would not have played upon my arrogance, and tricked me into diving into the hot spring. They would **_not_** have called my bluff, or tempted me with a **_kiss._** You are clearly better at hunting than you give yourself credit for, _Lath'in_ , as I thought it was **_you_** that was daring to hunt **_me_.”**

“Wait. The dwarf wrote about this too. You mean to tell me that… ** _you're_** Chuckles?” Fenris asked, incredulously, unable to stop his own laughter at the situation.

He had watched the two of them banter back and forth now, when he saw it. Solas, this Fen'Harel, was bantering with Hawke as if they were kindred souls. The mage would tease her, clearly more experienced than she was at it, and yet she turned whatever he said on its ear, and then Solas was the one blushing. Neither one seemed to have the upperhand for long. Both were shocked out of their bantering when Fenris stood up suddenly, walked over to Solas, staring at him with suspicion.

“Why do you smell like beef jerky?” Fenris asked, more than a little puzzled. “Like you bathe in it. That is a **_lot_** of beef jerky.”

“I wasn't going to say anything, but he's right.” Hawke stated, looking over to Solas for an answer.

“I can't talk about that.” Solas said, instantly.

“You can tell me that you're Fen'Harel, which I'm still trying to wrap my mind around, that you made out with the woman I consider my sister, and that the two of you are somehow bonded, but you can't tell me why you smell like you've rolled around in a pond of beef jerky?” Fenris asked, in disbelief.

“Some things must remain a mystery.” Solas replied, and then with a smirk, he added. “At least, while my _lath'in_ is in the room.”

“You keep calling her that. What does it mean? Did you just make something up because she won't tell you what her given name is?” Fenris asked, sitting back down. “She just tells me to call her little sister, or Hawke.”

“He knows what my name is, Fenris. I think he just refuses to use it in public so no one else will know it.” Hawke stated, with a soft smile. “He slips up from time to time, usually when he is concerned or worried.”

“You do not speak elvhen?” Solas asked, confused. “I thought…”

“I understand a little, enough to know that you asked if she had such faith in me, that she called me her brother, and something about this being for her. I'm not entirely sure. I was…Tevinter is not kind to elves.” Fenris supplied. “Hawke taught me most of what I know. You are trying to get out of answering questions. Don't think I haven't noticed. Now, what does _Lath'in_ mean, and why were you in her room? You have never fully answered that one either.”

“I brought her home last night after the maraas-lok incident.” Solas answered.

-

“Give me the binoculars.” Lavellan insisted. “You two are suppose to be cleaning this up anyway.”

“You should not be feeding into their infantile behaviour, Herald.” Cassandra huffed.

“Oh, hush, you're as curious as me, and you know it.” Lavellan replied, already looking up to where the meeting was. Cassandra blushed, but said nothing. “The meeting seems to be going well…Nope, spoke too soon, Fenris just charged at Solas.”

“Anyone want to bet that he gets his heart ripped out?” Varric asked, grumbling as he cleaned.

“You're just angry because you had to stay behind.” Dorian teased, throwing another pile of debris away.

“Everything's calmed down…Solas is…I don't believe it. Solas is **_blushing_ _!_ ”** Lavellan exclaimed. “Like, a lot! That is some hard core blushing going on. I didn't know he could change colours like that. You should see this, Varric, he's almost purple. Too bad you can't, though. So sad.”

“Just how good are those binoculars?” Cassandra asked, and before she knew it, Lavellan handed them to her. “Wow! He **_is_** blushing!…Fenris is laughing. Things must be going well in there. I'm happy for them.”

“Wait, Fenris is **_laughing?_** I don't believe you.” Varric said, trying to grab at the binoculars. Cassandra just shoves him away.

“You're just trying to get out of cleaning your mess, Dwarf.” Cassandra accused, not taking her eyes away from the meeting.

“You don't understand. Fenris broods. He gets angry, he rips hearts out of chests, he lights up, but he does not **_laugh_.”** Varric declared, indignant.

“It seems that he has learned how.” Cassandra retorted, handing the binoculars to him.

“Andraste's dimpled butt cheeks, he **_is_** laughing.” Varric muttered, handing the binoculars back to Lavellan.

-

“ _Lath'in_ , I know you wish to spend more time with him, but would you let Fenris and I speak alone for a moment?” Solas asked, looking to her. “We have…certain things to discuss.”

“Promise not to kill each other?” She asked, tentatively hopeful, before biting her lower lip.

“It will never come to that.” Solas promised.

“Alright.” She replied, and kissed his forehead before leaving quickly.

“That includes listening in at the door, _Lath'in_.” He called out, and a muttered _' **damn it** '_ could be heard by the men before she left. Solas couldn't help but smile. “That woman is…something else, to be sure.”

“You asked her to leave. Why?” Fenris asked, defensive.

“To tell you why I smell of beef jerky.” Solas stated, though it was clear that Fenris did not believe him. “There is a Mabari pup hidden in my room right now.”

 **“ _You're_** hiding a Mabari pup?” Fenris asked, confused.

“It's for Lady Hawke. I'm told it is very…Fereldan.” Solas replied, thoughtful. “At first, I did not understand her love for BarkSpawn, but he proved to be loyal beyond a fault. I owe him, and I do not know how else to repay the debt.”

“That, at least, explains why you smell like you swam in a lake of beef jerky.” Fenris remarked, dryly. “Why have you not told everyone else who you are?”

“Do you really think such a thing is a good idea?” Solas asked, chuckling darkly. “She believes that I should, I know, at least slowly begin to tell people. We share many mistakes, many experiences, she and I. However, to reveal such a thing to everyone all at once…Such a thing would be a mistake, and you know it. One person is smart. Groups of people have not proven themselves to be.”

“Do I have to worry about her safety because of who you are?” Fenris asked, getting to the point.

“I can not say that I do not worry what could happen to her should others try to get to her, because of who I am, when they inevitably find out, because of who that makes her.” Solas admitted, speaking truthfully. “There are many things left to do, and some I must find ways around because of her, but the danger these things present to her is very real.”

“She knows this?” Fenris asked, fidgeting nervously.

“Yes.” Solas replied. “She does.”

“Send her away.” Fenris demanded, outright. “Threaten her life if you have to, damn it. She has no sense of self preservation. You should **_know_** this!”

“I don't think you understand, Fenris, but I have already tried that. When I brought her back here, I was set on ignoring her. I told myself it was because she would be in the way of everything that I will have to do, that she would never forgive me for the things that I've already done.” Solas admitted, leaning forward till his elbows were on the table and his head in his hands. “At one point, I physically pushed her into a wall, and threatened her life…I didn't know…I'd pushed her into a nail…pierced her lung…If Sister Nightingale hadn't alerted me to what I'd done…If I hadn't found her in time…she would have **_died._** I don't think I have it in me to push her away again. Do not ask it of me.”

“She means that much to you?” Fenris asked, crossing his arms and waited. “Or are you just that selfish?”

“Yes, to both things. Yes.” Solas stated, and looked to him. "She does mean that much to me, and I **_am_** that selfish."

“You want something from me.” Fenris stated. “What is it?”

“Your blessing.” Solas admitted, pointblank. “You mean a great deal to her, and it may be selfish of me, but I want her to be happy, and she wants us to get along. She is my _lath'in_ , my 'place where love lives'.”

-

“I don't know if that's something I can give yet.” Fenris stated, after a moment. “I have to talk with her about this first.”

“That is understandable.” Solas replied, though it was clear he was disappointed. “We should get going. They want to make an attempt to close the Breach today, and Lavellan will need all the assistance she can get.”

Both men stood up, and began to make their way to the door, but before Fenris could get to it, Solas turned back to face him.

“Hawke trusts you, Fenris.” Solas stated. “It is my hope that I can as well. I am…not used to sharing things after so long keeping secrets.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters up, and so quickly too. It's a good thing I write ahead a lot. Maybe I can do that again this coming Wednesday.


	10. Sealing the Breach, and the secret assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While everyone prepares for the sealing of the Breach, an assassin makes his move, and Hawke pays the price, but who is he really after? Her or Solas? He doesn't take it well, and backpedals. Unwilling to risk her, he pushes her away. She is in danger no matter what he does, and she knows it. Now just to convince him of that.

Chapter 10

 

“Hawke, are you out of your mind?” Fenris hissed, later, when he found her as they walked up the mountain. “That man is…that man is… ** _Are you out of your Maker Forsaken mind?_** ”

“It went that badly?” Hawke asked, looking over to him. They were walking towards the Breach, several groups all at once, but he knew no one was listening in.

“That man is dangerous, more so to you than anyone else.” Fenris insisted.

“Of course he's dangerous, but he protected me.” Hawke replied. “When my room exploded, he threw himself above me without a single thought to his own safety.”

“That is one instance.” Fenris rebuked.

“It isn't the only one.” Hawke replied, bringing Fenris up short. “The mark brings him to me when I'm in danger of some kind, though he can use it to find me whenever he wants. He helped me escape that cell, woke me up when I was about to be surrounded by red lyrium templars, came to help me when the same templars made to attack me in force, and raced for three days straight to get me to Haven when I'd been dosed with another large dose of magebane. He's the type to think things through for a very long time before deciding on them, and he hasn't said it, considering how new we are, but I think…I think he might love me…Why else would he call me his _Lath'in_?”

“Have you given a thought to his **_age_ _?_** Especially in regards to your own?” Fenris countered. “Hawke…The man is **_ancient_ _._** Have you considered that at all?”

“You know, I've thought about that, and I can't seem to make my brain worry about it.” Hawke replied, keeping her voice low. “It should scare the fuck out of me, Fenris, but it doesn't. I can't explain it. My instincts tell me it will all work out.”

“I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?” Fenris huffed, in annoyance.

He might as well have been talking to the moon in that moment. Hawke had taken to staring off at what he had assumed was nothing, till he looked over in that direction. Across the way, Solas looked up as if he'd sensed something, and turned to face her with a soft smile. She blushed, and went back to looking ahead while Solas went back to speaking with the Herald. Were they really so attuned to each other that they knew the moment the other was searching for them?

-

“Fenris, I thought you'd still be over there trying to talk our dear Hawke away from Solas.” Dorian greeted, playfully.

“I'm sorry, what was that, Tevinter? I'm afraid I couldn't hear you over your outfit.” Fenris scoffed, causing a myriad of laughter from some of the surrounding people.

“What are you doing over here, really?” Lavellan asked, curious.

“I'm testing something.” Fenris replied, softly. “Maybe last time was a fluke. I want to see if I can see it from here too.”

Sure enough, the moment came a few minutes later. During a break in conversation, Solas looked over to Hawke, and he could have been a thousand miles away or one, a soft smile on his face. Hawke looked over to Solas almost automatically, and the two instantly smiled before looking back to what ever it was they had been doing. Fenris couldn't believe it, and looked to the others for confirmation. Dorian was chuckling, Lavellan just smiled, and Varric shook his head with a smile.

“Do they know they're doing that?” Fenris asked, quietly.

“I have no idea, but it's adorable.” Lavellan cooed.

“Is no one worried about this?” Fenris asked, gesturing towards the two in question. “She's **_much_** younger than him, if you haven't noticed. If Anders was too old, I **_know_** Solas has to be.”

“What I've noticed, is that while you've been talking to us about them, Chuckles has escaped us and is now over there with Flint.” Varric replied, with a smirk.

-

“He doesn't like me.” Solas commented, surprising Alhasha out of her thoughts.

“He…takes time warming up to people. He hated me when he first met me, tried to kill me when he realized what I was, now we're family.” Alhasha replied, unaffected. “We did give him a lot to think about, you know. Give him time to work through things in his mind. Despite his objections to the term, he does…brood.”

“I do not brood.” Fenris remarked, falling into step beside her.

“I'm sorry. You just think really really hard, and make smoldering angry faces while you're going about it.” Alhasha offered. “You forget. I have seen the women swoon as you walk past. I can almost guarantee they would have had broody little babies in your honour too.”

“Solas, why does it look like you've been gnawing on her neck?” Fenris asked, outright, looking unsure of how to proceed in fulfilling his suto brotherly duty. Apparently, Solas noted, it was possible to see blush through such dark skin.

“Probably because I have been.” Solas replied, nonchalantly without missing a beat. Alhasha coughs in an effort not to laugh. “She is…delicious.”

“I regret asking this already…It's just…Is it a lyrium thing, or is it her? Is this some oddly exclusive Mage fetish or something?” Fenris asked, now looking thoroughly embarrassed, trying to look anywhere else really.

“Who is it?” Alhasha asked, with a big grin, realizing Solas's game.

“I'm sorry?” Fenris asked, puzzled.

“Oh, don't you give me that. You're asking very pointed questions, you know.” Alhasha asked, in a teasing tone. “So, who is it? What mage is after your neck to nibble on? Am I going to have to pull the protective little sister routine?”

“There is…I do not…This is not about me, it's about you, and things I'm not sure are appropriate.” Fenris scoffed.

“If it helps, tell whoever it is that you know for a fact that they taste like fire in their blood, or you could just let them try it for themselves. I highly recommend that option. She seems to enjoy it enough.” Solas offered, grinning slightly. Fenris scoffed, highly embarrassed, and left them.

“You did that on purpose.” Alhasha accused, though there was no anger in her voice.

“So did you.” He teased.

“So is that really why you like to nibble on my neck so much?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Partially.” Solas replied, leaning in close to make sure these words would reach her ears only. “There are also these little sounds you make that I enjoy hearing, _Lath'in_.”

“Tease.” She grumbled, when he moved away. He chuckled under his breath as he moved to begin setting up preparations for the attempt to close the Breach.

-

“Focus on the Herald!” She heard Solas shout.

It would work this time, she could feel it. With the mages pouring their magic into her, she could actually feel the rift closing slowly. Lavellan jolted when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, and when she looked, she saw Hawke standing there with her. It took her a moment to realize that she was giving her access to her lyrium lines. A hand on the other side of her alerted her to Fenris doing the same.

-

A resounding boom rocked the ruins, and sent everyone sprawling out. By the time that he was able to sit up, many were already celebrating. The Herald had done it, with the help of those around her, she'd closed the Breach. A part of his mistake had been corrected, and yet something was missing. Alhasha, Alhasha was missing!

“Lady Hawke?… _Alhasha?_ … _Lath'in_?” Solas shouted, looking through the ruins. “ _Alhasha!_ ”

“She's over here!” Sera shouted, waving her arms. “Looks like she hit her head when the Breach thingy pushed back.”

“ _Alhasha!_ …” Solas was by her side before Sera had finished talking, using his magic to feel for any injuries. “Everything is fine.Why isn't she waking up?”

“Ughng…” Alhasha groaned suddenly, moving her hands to hold her head. “The Fade tastes like ass.”

“Well, why did you lick it?” Sera asked, incredulously, and the two descend into giggles.

“ _Alhasha_ …” Solas said, coming down from his worry, as he helped her sit up. “What happened?”

She groaned, leaning into him. “Did it work? Is Lavellan alright?”

“Yes. We're going back down to Haven now.” Solas replied, glad she was alright. “Are you okay to stand?”

“I think so.” She said, as he helped her up. She took one step forward, and collapsed before Solas could grab her. “I believe that's a no on the walking, then. Maybe I can just sit here for the next few months, and just admire the snow…It's quite nice…I'm thinking about melting it.”

“ _Alhasha_ , if you do that, how will I be able to give you your Satinalia gift?” Solas asked, with a slight smile. It did little to hide how worried he was still.

“Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick.” She said, suddenly alarmed, and scrambled over to the edge of the hill. No one likes being watched while they throw up, and so he looked away in an effort to give her the needed space while still remaining close enough should she need something.

“ _Solas!”_ Never before had he heard Sera call for him with such a serious tone.

“What's wr-”

He was going to ask what was wrong, but he needn't have asked. He saw it the moment he looked over her form. Sera wouldn't have shouted at him to get him to look at normal throw up…Well, maybe she would…but not today. Alhasha was throwing up blood, and shivering badly. Sera looked up at him helplessly, absentmindedly rubbing Alhasha's back in comfort.

“We need a healer over here **_now!”_** Solas shouted, urgently, before moving closer to Alhasha. “I could not sense what is wrong, _Alhasha_. Either I do not have the power to heal it, or it was blocked from my senses.”

“It's alright…I just hate being sick…I'll be fine…” She said, weakly. A healer was there soon, and began looking over her.

“I don't understand it. I can't sense anything with my magic, and yet we know something is wrong.” The healer admitted, scratching his head.

“Then it is something that is being blocked from our senses.” Solas declared.

“A disguised poison of some kind, maybe.” The healer suggested. “Tell me, Messere Hawke, what did you eat today?”

“Not much…a messenger was headed towards…my room…a box of sweet buns…I'd skipped breakfast, so I ate a few…The box should still be there.” Alhasha said, shivering.

“Sera.” Solas said, about to ask her to find the box.

“I'm on it.” Sera shouted out back, already running.

“We'll head down as soon as we can get her stable.” Solas said, looking to the healer. When he was gone, he looked to Alhasha. “The truth this time, _Lath'in_ , all of it.”

“The messenger was headed towards my room, but it wasn't my room he was looking for, it was yours…I think. It could have been mine, the messenger never said exactly. He said it was for the one living next to the Apothecary's shop. That could be either of us. A gift from a secret admirer, the messenger said.” Alhasha admitted. “I was going to throw them away, but they were my favorite, and I was hungry, and there was no time to get anything else. I didn't say that to the healer just in case…”

“In case he is who poisoned them, In which case, he wouldn't think we suspect him or anyone else for that matter.” Solas said, with a nod, fear had gripped him hard. “Fenris was right. You are in danger because of me. We can not **_do_** this, _Alhasha_.”

“Oh no you dont.” Alhasha growled, sitting back up, shocking him. She took a bit of snow, swished it around a bit, and spat it back out over the hill. “You don't get to push me away when things get a little dangerous, Solas. This doesn't even rate a one on the bad shit that's happened in my life.”

“ _Alhasha_ , being around me is **_dangerous_ _.”_** Solas argued. “You have to see that!”

“Oh, so it's _Alasvunin_ then?” She scoffed. Solas turned his head away from her. “You don't get to decide when I'm in danger. You met me in a fucking jail cell, remember?”

“Alhash-” Solas interjected, or tried to, but she cut him off.

 **“ _No_ _._** Before you showed up, I already had four nations angry at me, and that's not old hatred. That's brand new blinding white hot hatred. I have never been safe, always hiding, running, or being threatened and blackmailed. I couldn't even tell you what safe feels like, you arrogant, egotistical, overblown jackass!” Alhasha growled, before trying to hold back a cough again. “One of my best friends wants to invade the city I had claimed as my home, and has sent out assassins against me on more than one occasion. I will be in danger with or without you. Now decide where you want to be, but do not for a moment fool yourself into thinking that you're keeping me safe by walking away.”

Solas scooped her up without a word, and headed down the hill. If she was feeling well enough to argue with him, she was feeling well enough to make the trip down. She was still fussing at him too, it was just too low to really hear, and she seemed to be babbling incoherently. A kiss to her forehead confirmed his suspicions that she had a fever, but she hadn't had one when she'd first started fussing at him, and that worried him. At least she wasn't expelling blood anymore.

In all his years he'd never been in this situation. Alhasha challenged everything he knew about himself, teased him, fought with him, and confused the fire out of him. He was use to being in control, with her he never seemed to be, and that made him nervous. The food had been meant for him, he was sure of it, and yet she had paid the price. He couldn't risk her getting hurt, but what she said before…even without him, she was in danger.

What if something happened to her and he wasn't there, on the off chance that she couldn't stop it? He had, as she'd so eloquently put it, met her in a fucking jail cell. She'd already managed to survive through so much, but a big part of that was because she had a group of people around her who cared about her. Could he really risk not being there? He sighed, as he finally managed to make it into the healers building.

Many of the Inquisition leaders and advisers were already there. Solas placed her gently onto one of the beds, and motioned for the healer. Fenris and Sera were looking over a white box, while Lavellan, Cassandra, Montilyet, and Cullen were discussing things across the room. Lavellan motioned to him the second his arms were free. From their faces, he gathered that things were worse than he thought.

“Take a look at this, Solas.” Lavellan said, softly, handing him a piece of paper.

“It was left inside the box. Do you have any idea what it means?” Cassandra asked, her tone serious and tired.

“ _Ar shor eilar vena na._ ” Solas read, and then he went rigid and straight as he realized the significance of those words. **“ _Fenedhis!_** This is a message. Whoever sent this…Who ever this is doesn't just want us dead, they want us to live in fear first, to know that we are powerless to stop them, to know that they can get to us from anywhere.”

“You got all that from five words?” Commander Cullen asked, looking doubtful.

“You don't understand, Commander. Whoever sent this was **_there_** that night, close enough to us that we should have heard them.” Solas explained, shaking slightly. “They could have…They could have…”

“Wait, Solas, what do you mean?” Lavellan asked, concerned.

“You remember the night Master Tethras and _Alhasha_ told stories of BarkSpawn?” Solas asked, not noticing the slip up. Lavellan and Cassandra nodded. “That night, she and I stayed up late talking. We were able to work through some things.”

“Just how close would they have to have been, Solas?” Sister Nightingale asked. She had a tendency for appearing out of nowhere, or seeming to, at any rate.

“She whispered these exact words in my ear…too soft for anyone in the tents close to us to be able to hear them.” Solas replied, referring to the note, looking more than a little worried. “This phrase…They had to be close enough to **_touch_** us to be able to hear this, and yet we didn't hear them.”

“It is strange.” She noted. “It is as if they waited for a moment when the two of you would be apart. You may be right that they are after the both of you. Out of all the things to use, they chose that phrase. It is important to you both, something the other would recognize and not question. Whoever got it would think it was from the other. She is the Champion of Kirkwall, the flame that ignited the Mage rebellion. You are a mysterious apostate who is very close to the Herald, and your specialty in Fade Magic makes you all the more dangerous. Something drove you apart this morning. What was it that separated you?”

“Me.” Fenris answered, walking towards them. “If he is to be involved with the woman I consider my sister, I needed to evaluate him. Speaking of which, Solas, we need to talk. **_Now_.”**

“Wait! Sol-arse needs to be here when she wakes up!” Sera quipped. “She will want to see him!”

“If she wakes up, tell her we have stepped out for some air. She will understand.” Fenris replied to her, then looked back to Solas. “A word, if you please.”

-

_Alusvunin – (it's like our tuesday)_

-

“I know what you're going to say, Fenris, and she may be mad at me now, but it is for the best.” Solas said, when they got outside. “I should not have pursued this. You were right. It is too dangerous for her to be with me.”

“You're an idiot.” Fenris scoffed, keeping his voice low as they walked along, shocking Solas into silence. “Leave her at the first sign of trouble, do you? Some dread wolf you turned out to be.”

“Yeah, she pretty much chewed me out too. That doesn't change the fact that you were right.” Solas admitted, then looked around. “Where are we going?”

“As Hawke is out of commission at the moment, we will have to do this without her.” Fenris sighed, and they continued on. His voice took on a casual story telling tone, as if sharing pleasant times. “When I was first getting to know Hawke, she was amused with my sense of smell, and she would ask me to describe things to her often. ' _Sour ale, vomit, and the smell of desperation_ ' that was the Hanged Man, ' _There is a foul wind coming from that cavern. I smell death_.' that was the Bone Pit. I can't even begin to describe to you abhorrent smell of the docks. ' _Fish, fish, and more fish, blugh'_.”

“Is there a point to this?” Solas asked, slightly annoyed.

“Those sweet bun things. I **_know_** them.” Fenris stated, and only now does Solas realize that Fenris has been twitching his nose from time to time. “Honey, cinnamon, and brown sugar. The cake itself soaks in lemon juice and rum for so long that the smell lingers for days.”

“How do you know of them?” Solas asked. He was describing this treat with remarkable detail through smell alone.

“It is one of Hawke's personal favorite's. It reminds her of when her father would come home, and her mother baked them. They may not have been safe, but they were happy…sometime before the blight, she told me. In Kirkwall, she would indulge in them at least once a week, just so she could always smell like that. If she could have bottled that smell, I think she would have done so.” Fenris replied, his eyes focused elsewhere. “Hawke probably didn't even think about it when she ate them, being in a hurry as everyone was this morning, but those sweets aren't made in this area. It is much more of a Fereldan style food, and I was surprised she had even found them in Kirkwall. Tell me something, Solas. What are the odds that she would run into a messenger with these exact treats, in an area where they are not made, if they were really meant for you?”

Solas couldn't even think of an answer for him. There wasn't one. Someone was after her, and they were clever enough to make Solas think they were after him instead. He froze as he realized that he had left her in there, and there was no way to alert the others to the danger. He was jarred out of his thoughts by Fenris, who had plucked a hidden figure out of an alcove and slammed the figure into the opposite wall.

“Who do you work for?!” Fenris shouted, angrily, his lyrium lines blazing to life as one of his fists twitches with a promised threat the man seems to understand. “I will not ask again.”

“I was only sent to watch her at first, I swear! It was just…to discover the location of Anders, but…discovering that she is the chosen of Fen'Harel…” The man trailed off, and then glared at Solas. “Your very existence is an affront to the Maker, and his beloved bride Andraste. Such an atrocity to the Maker can not stand. Any child born of this union would be an abomination.”

“You seem to know a lot about the will of your Maker.” Solas sneered. “Tell me, do you speak with him often?”

“You are not worthy to even speak his name.” The man struggled, being slammed back into the wall and held there by Fenris.

“Were you ordered to kill her?” Solas asked, his anger barely in check as it is.

“I was not.” The man insisted.

“Does your employer even know of you supposed discovery?” Fenris sneered, allowing the light of the lyrium to flicker out.

“No, he doesn-ngh!” The man never got to finish his sentence, as Fenris's markings sparked back to life in an instant, and pulled out his heart.

“If we're lucky, he'll still have the poison on him.” Solas suggested, and the two began checking pockets. “Why did you ask that last question? Does it even matter? How would you even know if he was speaking the truth?”

“I wouldn't, and it doesn't, but it does.” Fenris stated. “If his employer is who I think it is, she will be in more danger if you leave her alone, Solas. Do not think you can keep her safe by abandoning her now. The way she is, it will only propel her into the very danger you want her to avoid.”

-

“Contact the prince of Starkhaven, and tell him that if I ever see one of his spies around Hawke again, I'll do this to them.” Fenris demanded, before shoving a dead body into the room. It was clear to all that the man's heart had been removed.

“Did you happen to find an antidote on him?” The healer asked, unfazed, as he ran up to them. Solas produced a vial for him.

“This was all we found.” Solas stated, as he handed the vial over.

“It's enough. If it's the poison, I can work out the antidote from it.” The healer replied, and left.

“The rest of you should get back to things. The celebration will be getting underway soon. Josephine, you've done a wonderful job putting things together. Go enjoy it.” Lavellan insisted. “There is nothing more you can do here.”

“Let us know if anything changes.” Cassandra insisted, looking to the three of them, before leaving.

“ Glad the baddie's dead.” Sera grumbled, on her way towards the door. She took hold of Solas's shirt, and pulled him down to her height. “I told you, when she woke up, to be here. She was asking for you, Shiny. Don't leave her again.”

“You know, she's scary, that one.” Fenris acknowledged, after Sera had gone. Solas nodded.

“Hawke's her Friends of Red Jenny prank buddy.” Lavellan answered, with a slight smile. “I'm surprised she didn't grill Solas to death when she first found out about them.”

“She did.” Solas admitted, his voice soft, as he moved the hair out of Alhasha's face. “Tell me about this Prince from Starkhaven.”

“Sebastian is a religious man, which would be fine on its own, but he is also impulsive, rash, and quick to anger. He retook Starkhaven just so that he could plan on taking Kirkwall later, because Hawke refused to kill Anders. He is angry, because of the death of Grand Cleric Elthina. She was like a mother to him, and Hawke's refusal to kill Anders was seen as an insult to her memory. Hawke simply thought martyrdom was too easy, too **_good_** for Anders, and demanded that he fight for the people he had condemned.” Fenris explained. “Before all of that, Sebastian had always held a quiet affection for Hawke, but never acted on it. A few odd comments here and there, but nothing alarming. He was never disrespectful, but thinking back on it now…he did watch her a little more often than was appropriate. I should have paid more attention to that.”

“With everything that was going on at the time, and Anders drowning in his own madness, it is a wonder that _anyone_ noticed Sebastian quietly watching Flint.” Varric realized. “Don't beat yourself up over this, Broody. I should have seen it too.”

“Would the prince of Starkhaven really try to kill her?” Lavellan asked, worriedly.

“According to _Alhasha_ , he has already made several attempts at it.” Solas replied, surprising Varric. “He may now have another motivation for wanting to kill her. I had not thought that entering into a relationship with her would put her in danger…not like this.”

“I can see that. It's the 'If I can't have her, no one can' mentality.” Varric said, scratching his chin.

“This is all speculation right now.” Fenris stated, surprising everyone into looking at him. “We have all the proof **_we_** need, but not the proof **_others_** will need. There is nothing we can do about him till we get that.”

“I hate to say it, but he's right.” Cullen said, pragmatically. “It would be unwise to attack him now. The repercussions would be severe, and damaging to the Inquisition. Hawke would not want that for us, not when she's put so much effort into helping us.”

“I will have my contacts dig for information, and see what I can find.” Sister Nightingale stated, before making her way out of the room.

“Is there anything you need, Solas?” Lavellan asked, concerned.

“I will need someone to check on the gift for Alhasha in my hut. It has been alone for some time today.” Solas replied, after a moment. “It is very…Fereldan.”

“Come on. I'll explain on the way.” Cullen said, seeing Lavellan's confusion.

-

Solas's focus was more on Hawke now than what the others talked about or did now. They flitted in and out of the room without his notice, including the healer, or Fenris when he came to remove the body. Occasionally Hawke would wake up and start coughing again. Solas would rub her back as Sera had done, and she would quieten down again. When she began to shiver nonstop, Solas reacted instantly, getting into bed with her and holding her close to him, back to chest, using the blankets around them to hold in a warming spell.

Only The Iron Bull remained in the shadows. It was amazing, he thought at times, that anyone could overlook him. Think about it, big tall grey man with insane muscles, horns, and an eye patch. These things tend to stick out, and yet he sat in this room unnoticed by everyone that walked in. He was waiting for what he knew would happen.

Solas had said 'us', when shown that note, which meant that he had a reason why people would be after him. Not that big a deal, but it meant more complications. Hawke came with several nations that wanted her dead, so another layer of complications wasn't really a surprise. Varric would occasionally grumble about 'Flint' not sharing secrets anymore, so it was a guarantee that she knew what Solas was talking about. Solas may look quiet and unassuming, but the elf was a well-house of power and information.

The only things going on at the moment, were Hawke coughing every so often, and Solas trying to comfort her. He could hear the sounds of celebrating going on outside as well, but paid it no mind. There would be time to celebrate later. Occasionally, he could hear Solas murmuring things to Hawke, and he understood enough elvhen that he could easily translate what the elven man said. He hadn't been paying attention to it till now, but till the assassin showed up, it couldn't hurt for easy amusement.

“ _Tel'dina, Lath'in_.” Solas said, softly, barely above a whisper. “ _Ir abelas. Ar myr'tel ema dirthem ahn Ar dirthem. Sathan. Sathan, tel'dina, Lath'in._ ”

**_Don't die, love. - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said. Please. Please, don't die, love._ **

(Bull was actually surprised to hear such emotion from Solas, as the elf was normally quite reserved, but watching the one you care for almost die does things to a person.)

“… _Mai da'dhru, Ara'manean._ ” Hawke chuckled, coughing a little, her voice as low as his.

 **… _So little faith, My fish_** (Odd nickname for a loved one, but this was Hawke, so…Hawke, fish, hehe)

“ _San, vis ar'an vevar saron, Ar nuven ei tuasha bosmelin_.” Solas chuckled, softly.

**_Alright, if we stay together, I need a new nickname._ **

“ _Shasalol mala, eisi ar'an? Ar rya britha la etunash sul na sai ea shasalol._ ” Hawke teased, snuggling back into him. “ _Ahn'o Shan'ishan? Fenris dirthem na eisi imori._ ”

**_Bargaining now, are we? I must look like shit for you to be bargaining - What about old man? Fenris said you are ancient._ **

“ _Lath'in…_ ” Solas pleaded, playfully.

“ _Mmm…Uva'bar?”_ She asked, giggling. Solas just halfheartedly nudged her. “ _Ara'nas…_ (coughing) _…nas'falon._ ”

**_Egghead? – My soul…soul mate_ **

“Do you mean that?” Solas asked, softly, sounding unsure. “Even after what I said today, _Lath'in_?”

“It's exactly what I would have done, ( _Coughing_ ) had the roles been reversed.” She admitted, with a whisper. “It's also how I know it wouldn't have worked. ( _Coughing_ ) Leaving someone to protect them, in some misguided idea of self sacrifice. ( _Coughing_ ) It's selfish, foolish, and it never worked when I did it, so why would it work for you? I got fussed at for it then, so you're getting fussed at for it now.”

“ _Ar silaima samelava, thu aron ar'an eisi, Lath'in._ ” Solas said, softly, with a sigh. “ _Na ir'vera ara'son. Ra tuan em har'diane, eil Ar av'ahn garahnen._ ”

**_I forget sometimes, how alike we are, love. - You take away my control. It makes me fearful, and I question everything._ **

“ _Awe…Brithan la ara mor'telam'fen air gela or ei da'ean._ ” Hawke teased, before coughing some more, her voice sounding so small now.

**_Looks like my big bad wolf is afraid of a little bird._ **

“ _Erathe, Lath'in._ ” Solas insisted, his face practically buried in her hair. “ _Ar shor ea amahn melahn na'thena. Nu em melahn'an._ ”

**_Sleep, love. - I will be here when you wake. Tease me then._ **

“ _San, Shan'ishan._ ” Hawke replied, sleepily, with a yawn.

**_Alright, old man_ **

The Iron Bull would have chuckled at their conversation, if he thought it wouldn't have given him away. Hawke certain would give Solas a run for his money, as if he thought he could really let her go to protect her. After a while, she was asleep again, and it wasn't long before another healer walked into the room and looked around. With everyone asleep, this would be the perfect time. Bull let him get to Hawke's side of the cot before he had the 'healer' pinned against the wall.

The man cursed out loud, having somehow missed the very large qunari man, but could not escape his grasp. When Bull chanced a look over his shoulder, he was not surprised to see Solas awake. He had an arm wrapped around Hawke, drawing her to him protectively, looking absolutely **_feral._** Even Hawke was awake now, though the barrier she had up flickered in and out. Bull took the vial from the 'healer', and slammed him into the wall again.

“I'm going to assume this isn't the antidote for now.” Bull mused, setting the vial down. “What happened to the real healer?”

“Dead.” Fake healer choked out. Hawke could be heard coughing again in the background.

“How many of you are here now?” Bull asked, squeezing the man's neck to emphasize the need for a speedy reply.

“Enough.” Fake healer replied, bravely.

“I admire your bravado, really, but you just look like an idiot.” Bull said, looking rather bored. “Who sent you? What do they want?”

“He knows about Fen'Harel, and his chosen. He will kill him, and steal Hawke for himself.” Fake healer replied. “The poison was not suppose to react so strongly to her.”

At that, Bull snapped the man's neck, and went back to the vial.

“If what he said was true, this may just be the antidote the real healer was trying to make.” Bull said, sitting by Hawke's side of the cot. “What do you say, Hawke? Want to try it?”

“Down the hatch, then?” Hawke asked, shakily, with a wry smile as Solas helped her sit up.

“That's usually the way of it.” Bull replied, handing her the uncorked vial.

“Are you sure that's wise, _Lath'in_?” Solas asked, worriedly.

“It's either this, or continue to puke up my insides.” Hawke replied, and downed the vial in one gulp. There was a moment where everyone seemed to hold there breath, but nothing happened, not even Hawke coughing.

“You aren't the least bit curious about what he was talking about?” Solas asked Bull, warily, after the moment passed.

“I know enough, and can guess the rest, but it's best that I don't know anything more for now. Ben-Hassrath, remember?” Bull stated. “Right now, whatever it is, it's better that I don't know. Half of them already think I've defected. They find out I know something like that, and didn't say anything?…It's better that I don't know.”

“You're a good man, Iron Bull.” Solas said, with a nod.

-

Lavellan walked in just as Iron Bull was walking out, carrying a body, and she nodded to him in greeting. She'd ask Bull about the body later, but for now she wanted to check on her friends. Everyone else had been celebrating, it seemed, except for her and the Commander…and these two. Hawke was sitting up, shaky and weak, but looking better than she had since that morning. She was watching Solas intently, as the man worked with a makeshift stove, with a small smile on her face.

“Hawke, it's good to see you up.” Lavellan admitted, seeing her smile. “It's quite the party you're missing out there.”

“I think I've had enough excitement for one day.” Hawke replied, acting blasé, before she broke out into a grin. “Besides, I have my very own personal chef right now.”

“I wonder if I could get the Commander to do that…” Lavellan mumbled, not realizing that she had said that out loud.

“If you do, you have to tell me all about it.” Hawke laughed. “I'm sure Varric will throw in some friend fiction in there for you too.”

“Creators, I said that out loud…” Lavellan realized, blushing.

“If you would like, _Lethal'lan_ , I could talk to the Commander for you.” Solas supplied, as he continued to work on the food, with a slight grin. “I do owe him a favor, after all.”

“About that…Your room is a wreck.” Lavellan said, with a bit of a giggle.

“I suspected as much.” Solas admitted, with a resigned sort of sigh. Hawke just burst out laughing, and Solas reacted to it instantly, a slow smile creeping across his face. “We do seem to make quite the pair. Her room gets blown up, and mine gets wrecked, all in the same day.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to check and see how you were doing, Hawke.” Lavellan stated. “I should get back. Cassandra wanted to talk rebuilding plans for the work we still have left.”

-

“Of course.” Hawke replied, and Lavellan made her way out. She turned to look at Solas, and asked. “So, why do you owe the Commander?”

“You will know soon enough, _Lath'in_.” Solas replied, with one of those secret smirks of his, as he finished spooning her food into a bowl. When he began to frown, she decided it was time to interrupt his thoughts.

“If you tell me what you're thinking, maybe I can help.” She said, as he handed her the bowl. “The soup smells lovely, by the way.”

“My mother's recipe.” He said, surprising her, before getting to what was bothering him. “He knows, _Lath'in_ , this prince from Starkhaven. He knows that you are the chosen of _Fen'Harel._ His informants were close enough to hear you whisper _Ar shor eilar vena na_ in my ear. Fenris tracked down the one that poisoned the sweet buns you ate, and ripped his heart out. Everything in me tells me to leave you to keep you safe, but you will still be in danger even then. The man I was before…would not take this well. I would have slaughtered everyone in the castle as an example on my way to kill him…Tell me what to do, _Lath'in_. Tell me you have a better plan than blind rage, because that is all I have. An attempt on your life is not something I can forgive.”

“You might not like my plan.” She warned, and watched as he seemed to brace himself for it. “It involves walking right up to him in his castle in Starkhaven, and maybe a trip to Ravain.”

“You're right. I don't like it.” Solas replied, as she slowly ate the soup. “Tell me there's more details to this plan, like a fight to the death or something.”

“Even better.” She stated, with a small grin. “To the pain. ( _At this, Solas looked confused._ ) Trust me, leaving him alive and suffering will be far more damaging than just killing him. Despite all his vows to the Maker, Sebastian is a vain sort of man. His pride is in his appearance, in the way others view him. I destroy that, and I destroy him.”

“And the trip to Ravain?” Solas asked, looking doubtful.

“A girl has to look her best, doesn't she?” Hawke asked, with a playful smile.

 


	11. Attack on Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The celebration comes to an abrupt halt, and Haven has to be evacuated.

Chapter 11

 

He was going to say something to that, or he was trying to think of something, when she doubled over in pain again. Her lyrium lines flickered in and out of life. He couldn't find the cause, and she wasn't talking yet, and he wondered if it had anything to do with what was going on outside. A horn had been blown, signalling trouble for Haven. She shot up again, downed the rest of the soup, and bolted out the door.

Solas ran after her, following her into the Apothecary's shop. She was downing stamina potions like they were rum shots. With the way her stomach had been treated today, he didn't know if that was a good idea, but she wouldn't listen to his objections, not that he'd really had the time to make them. By the time that she was through, she'd downed about ten or so of the things, and looked like she could jump to the moon with the amount of energy she had in her system. He lost her for a second, as she darted out of the building, only to see her coming out of what had been her room with the staff of Andruil.

“Haven wasn't built to be a fortress, but if we can load the trebuchets…bring the mountain down on them, we might stand a chance.” The Commander said to Lavellan as they ran up the them. “Hawke, what are you doing up? You should still be in the infirmary.”

“There isn't going to **_be_** an infirmary if we don't deal with **_that._ ”** Alhasha growled, as she pointed out to the army that was approaching. “Do you realize how many red templars are out there, because the pain in my lyrium lines says I do, and…Is that…Maker's bleeding asshole! Is that Samson?!”  
“Yes, it is.” Commander Cullen growled back, darkly, though he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the man Alhasha had pointed out.

“I should have killed him back in Kirkwall.” She replied, shaking in anger.

“You won't hear any objections from me.” Commander Cullen responded. Solas was surprised that the Commander even had a dark side. “Mages! You have sanction to engage the enemy! That is Samson! He will **_not_** make it easy. For the Herald! For your **_Lives_ _!_** For all of us!”

“You won't be able to get to Samson, little bird, but you can protect the Herald.” He heard a boy in a large purple hat say to Alhasha. “My name is Cole. Chew on this, it will help. I like to help.”

“That's great, Cole. I do too.” Alhasha said, taking whatever it was the boy gave her. “Come on, let's go do something epic and possibly stupid.”

“Why would we do it if it's stupid?” The boy asked, following her.

“Because if it works, it's epic. If it doesn't, it's stupid.” She replied, without missing a beat.

“Will it help?” The boy asked, earnestly. Solas never thought he could hear a smile till that moment.

-

They were losing ground, and quickly. The trebuchets would never be loaded in time. Buildings were on fire, people were screaming, it was too much. It didn't matter how hard they fought, the enemy was winning. Many of the templars that had joined the inquisition were disheartened to see their brothers set against them this way, and Cullen knew that if he couldn't raise their spirits soon, they wouldn't be able to help the Herald at all. It was Solas who noticed the sound first, cutting through the fighting, and it wasn't until the third verse that Cullen understood it for what it was.

“ _Ar ema_ _harthal_ _si lah, Ei_ _sulahn_ _in si molaer, Si aelai or Na lah, Lahnal tuathe thena o' ral eral._ ”

“I have heard the sound, A song in the stillness, The echo of Your voice, Calling creation to wake from its slumber.” Cullen said, with a smile, as he realized what it was the words meant. The look on Solas's face was worth all the coin he had, as Cullen had never seen the aloof elf look so shocked before.

“ _T_ _hu_ _ela shi cyrn na? In si sesol or si maeryl, in_ _vun_ _eil din, in si_ _viane_ _alasis_ _mahn_ _var vhenan, Isa sul ei_ _silaimael_ _sal'in_ _?_ ” The voice was getting closer.

“How can we know You? In the turning of the seasons, in life and death, In the empty space where our hearts, Hunger for a forgotten face?” Cullen translated, before decapitating the enemy in front of him. Solas sent lightning ahead of him to get the few that were ready to charge him.

“You never told me you knew elvhen, Commander.” Solas bantered, with a wry smile.

“I don't, but I would know those words anywhere.” Cullen admitted, moving on to the next enemy. Was he imagining it?

“ _Ne ema_ _virem_ _shaerodi em, D_ _ur_ _si var_ _mahn_ _alan'en assan_ _esayem_ _ma_ _dil._ _Ne ema_ _rosem_ _i'ma_ _melahn_ _ga em alin Ema thysajael em._ ”

“You have walked beside me, Down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh. You have stood with me when all others Have forsaken me.” Cullen translated. Nope, he wasn't imagining it. Between him and that voice, the troops were being bolstered. “That's the Chant of Light.”

“ _Ar ema rosem eisor i'Ne la ma_ _shalasha_ _, Eil_ _savis_ _ar ema mas_ _i've'an_ _tylol, banal Ela dana em aezaer Mar eirdaeli_.” He knew it was a woman, but he couldn't place her voice.

“I have faced armies With You as my shield, And though I bear scars beyond counting, nothing Can break me except Your absence.” Cullen translated, as he fought. “Who _is_ that?”

“Commander, I'm surprised at you.” Hawke teased, as she sent flames after a particularly large red lyrium templar. “This is not the first time you and I have recited the Chant of Light in battle.”

“Forgive me, Hawke. I couldn't hear any of your usual sarcasm.” Cullen replied, with a bit of a chuckle. She was at his back now. “Shall we then?”

-

“ _M_ _elahn_ _Ar ema laim_ _garahnen_ _, M_ _elahn_ _ma inan thar em, Eil si rodhe or lan diana ma a_ _v'in_ _,_ _melahn'an_ _, In si direl or ma vhenan, Ar ema si_ _leanathe_ _or tuathe._ ”

“When I have lost all else, when my eyes fail me, And the taste of blood fills my mouth, then, In the pounding of my heart, I hear the glory of creation.”

Solas couldn't believe it, even as he helped in the fighting. As Alhasha and the Commander recited the Chant of Light, the surrounding troops were bolstered. They fought harder, gave more, gained more ground. Back to back, Alhasha and the Commander fought as a unit. He had never seen a mage and sword fight so well hand in hand like that. It must be what she looked like when she fought alongside Fenris too, he realized.

“ _Tajaes, savis si bane ena tarsul em, Ar dya ematha si lean. Ar dya_ _tarasyldear_ _si_ _tarasyl'nin_ _._ _Ar dya_ _rosa_ _._ _Ahn Ne ema_ _ajuem_ _, telin ela dana sasha._ ”

“Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm.  
I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder.”

It was like a signal. As soon as the last words were spoken, the trebuchets were fired. Snow from the mountain and onto the red lyrium templars that hadn't made it into Haven yet. The fighting wasn't over, but they had bought time for a retreat maybe. It was like a breath of fresh air had been shot straight into their lungs, until everything deflated around them.

A ghastly beast, some kind of dragon, came barrelling through. It destroyed most of the trebuchets, and melted the path that had been blocked. Cullen and Lavellan were talking, trying to come up with anything, but all Solas seemed to zero in on was Alhasha. The look on her face was like someone had walked over her grave. He looked to where she was looking to, and saw the face of his latest mistake.

“Corypheus…” She whispers, so low he almost can't hear it. “Solas, out of all the mistakes we could possibly share…I did not expect him to be one of them…How is he alive?…I **_killed_** him myself…I don't understand…”

-

“Fenris!” She called out, looking around for him,

“Hawke?” Fenris called back, seeing what she had seen. “Is that…?”

“It is. It shouldn't be, but it is. Get everyone you can inside the Chantry. Cullen said that was the only building strong enough to withstand that thing. I'm sure they're working on an exit strategy, or something.” Hawke stated, clinching her eyes closed as she pinched the bridge of her nose the way she often did while trying to plan something. “I'm going to try to buy them time.”

“Hawke, I know that look.” Fenris growled, grabbing her arm. “What are you planning?”

“Something either really epic or extremely stupid.” Hawke replied, before shoving him on. “There isn't much time. Now go!”

He did as she asked, gathered everyone he could find. He wasn't the only one doing that, it seemed, and they were able to bring more people into the Chantry. People were carrying items. Even Solas had two bags across his head and shoulder, and a chest that looked like it belonged to Hawke. He looked up when Fenris walked in with a group of people, but upon not seeing Hawke, Solas began looking around the room again.

“You two had better be planning something good. Hawke is 'buying you time', though I don't know how she plans on doing that.” Fenris declared, as he strolled up to the pair of them. “She said it was either going to be really epic or extremely stupid, whatever that means.”

“She's going to activate the diamonds.” The boy with the large purple hat stated. “I saw a high dragon in the Fade. It looked like that.”

“I don't care what it looked like.” Cullen said, exasperated. Then he paused. “What do you mean, about activating the diamonds?”

“The Iron Lady will be very angry her loves diamonds are gone, but the little bird needed them. They will help. I like her. She likes to help.” The boy replied, as if this made sense.

“Cole, what does the little bird plan on doing with the diamonds.” Solas asked, patient but wary. Fenris tried not to stare when one of the bags Solas carried wiggled.

“She's trying to create a barrier to stop the Elder One. It won't work forever, just long enough to make him remember she was one who killed him once, focus the attention on her long enough for her Pack Mates to escape. She views you as her pack, strange that she is wolf and hawk.” The boy said. “It won't work, but she is still going to try. The Elder One is only after the Herald. He doesn't care about the village, or the little bird, but he will kill them anyway, kill her anyway. The little bird will need help. She can not do this on her own, but she told me not to say anything about that. She said it wouldn't help, but I think she may have been fibbing. She will risk everything to protect the wolves she loves most.”

“The only thing I can think of…We can load the last Trebuchet, aim it at the mountain behind Haven. It will bury us, but it will take that thing with us.” Cullen said, thinking. “Not many get to decide how they die. We do.”

“Yes. That will work. He wants to help, save us before he dies.” The boy said, gesturing to one of the Chantry brothers Fenris recognized as Roderick.

“There's a path, but not many know it. They wouldn't know it, unless they had taken the summer pilgrimage as I have. It can lead you out.” The man wheezed, looking to Lavellan. “I wonder if she showed me this, to tell you. If that is true…then this Inquisition could be more **… _You_** could be more.”

“Cullen, can you get the people out?” Lavellan asked, with a spark of hope.

“If he's right about the path, then yes, but what about you?” Cullen asked, his eyes pleading and hopeful.

Fenris looked away. The moment felt too private, even if it was in the middle of them all. He knew, just as Lavellan did, that she was going to have to stay behind. She couldn't answer the man, and began to walk away, but Cullen grabbed her hand at the last moment. Even then, Lavellan could not look back.

Fenris knew that look. Hawke had had it many times when she thought to sacrifice herself for the good of others. He never thought he'd see it on someone else, or see Cullen look so devastated. There was no hope to cling to now, but they all tried. He almost didn't hear Cullen as the two spoke.

“Maybe you'll surprise us…find a way…” Cullen said, hopeful, his voice trailing off. Lavellan nodded, looking like she could not trust herself to speak, and began walking towards the door. Cullen sent soldiers out with her to load the last Trebuchet, and called out to her. “Herald, if we are to have a chance…If we are to have **_any_** chance… ** _Make that thing hear you_**.”

“Cullen, I will stay with her as long as I can.” Fenris promised, and was about to head after her when Solas stopped him.

“Fenris, wait. Find _Alhasha,_ if you can, bring her back.” Solas said, somewhere between a request and a plea. “She hasn't fully recovered. I don't know what her plan will do to her. She shouldn't be out there at all.”

“I will do what I can, Solas, but it might not be enough.” Fenris said, and then he was gone.

-

Cullen and Solas stood there for a moment after Fenris had followed Lavellan out with the other soldiers. This shit was bad, none of them had thought it would come to this, but they had to act now. Only no one seemed to want to move. One of the bags that Solas carried wiggled again, and that seemed to break the spell over everyone. Varric saw him place his arm over the bag, trying to still it before anyone noticed, but he caught Varric looking at the bag anyway.

“Not a word, Dwarf.” Solas stated, though there was a worried edge to his voice instead of the angered one he had tried to project.

Everyone began moving then, as Cullen directed them where to go, when the soldiers he'd sent returned. They followed Roderick's instructions, though it was like they moved in a daze. Cullen threw everything into his work, and the others followed his lead. Solas lagged behind with the last of those to leave. If Varric hadn't been watching him, he would have missed the slight movement to look over his shoulder at the Chantry when he thought no one was looking.

“She'll make it out, Chuckles.” Varric said, too low for the others to hear, as they made their way.

“Does _Alhasha_ do this often?” Solas asked him, quietly, not looking at him.

“Make others worry a lot?” Varric asked, assuming he was talking about Hawke, to clarify. Solas nodded. “Yeah. Flint's always kind of been like that, though it got worse after her mother died. She believes she failed them, her family I mean, and she refuses to fail anyone else like that ever again. She would give her life, if it meant protecting the people she cares for. Fenris will get her out of there, save her from herself. This isn't the first time he's had to pull her ass out of the fire like this.”

“And Lavellan?” Cullen asked, actually surprising Varric. The dwarf hadn't heard him come up to him at all.

“Flint will give her every advantage she can.” Varric replied, deciding not to tease the Commander for once. It wasn't often that the Commander refered to her as Lavellan anyway. “Lightning is just as stubborn as she is anyway. She'll make it. They'll both make it. ( _He grinned, as an idea came to him._ ) If you like, I'll even bet my chest hair on it.”

Despite the obvious worry the Commander had, that actually made him chuckle a bit. “No. No need. You've already bet your tunic on Hawke and Solas. If you lose that, you'll only have your chest hair to keep you warm, Dwarf.”

-

They'd been hearing a wolf follow after them for some time now, but Solas didn't know what to make of it. Everyone assumed it was a pack, because wolves didn't normally travel alone, but Solas was sure it was only one. Each time he heard it, he looked back, though he wasn't sure what he was expecting to see. They'd had to stop a few times now, and each time they did, people offered up belongings they felt they could part with to keep the fire going. Solas couldn't do that, as the things he carried were not his own, and he didn't know what she would be willing to part with…what memories he would be burning away.

A wolf's howl, this time so close it sent shivers down his spine, and he whirled around to face it. There, almost too obscured to see, was the faint glow of lyrium. Those two things together could only mean Alhasha, but he couldn't force the group to stop for him alone. They still had to get above the treeline. They were almost there now, and then the Commander could call for the signal to be sent to Lavellan.

When they finally did stop, and the signal flare was shot, everyone watched as the mountain of snow fell on Haven. It silenced everything, and Solas could only watch as the Commander seemed to slump under the weight of it. They set up camp where they were, and hoped the fire would light her way. Solas kept his eyes peeled in the direction of where he had last seen the flicker of blue light, and didn't talk to anyone. Everyone was too lost in what happened to talk anyway.

He almost didn't trust his eyes at first, when he spotted the light again. When it did happen again, it was closer, and Solas stood up slowly. When it happened after that, he took a step, and then another, and soon he was sure of what he saw. Turning only slightly, he called out for someone to help him, and turned back. Fenris was walking towards him, wrapped up in a curtain that had hung in the Chantry, standing next to a wolf that was more than half as tall as he was…much larger than any full grown Mabari hound.

Blackwall was there within moments, helping Fenris the rest of the way to the group. No one knew what to make of the ridiculously large wolf, and many went slack-jawed when it nuzzled Solas's hand. He knew her instantly, would recognize those eyes anywhere, and lead her to the fire to get warm. Cullen was busy talking with Fenris about what happened, but there would be no way to know if their plan had worked, and every once in a while he would look over to the wolf that had walked in with Fenris. Solas was busy rubbing along her joints, trying to get her warm enough to change back.

When she did, Mother Gisele gasped in fright. Solas couldn't help but shake his head at that. He knew what the Chantry said about such beings as Alhasha, knew that she would be wary of her now. How quickly they forget that only moments ago, she and the Commander had bolstered the troops with their Chant of Light. She surprised him by walking towards them a moment later with a blanket for Alhasha.

“For Hawke.” She said, holding out the blanket to him. He accepted it, and wrapped Alhasha up as best as he could. “I apologize for my earlier reaction. She has done nothing to warrant fear from me. It's just…to see the change take place like that…I had never thought I'd live to see such a thing before my very eyes. It was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking.”

“I am sure she would have a playfully sarcastic response at the ready for you, Mother Gisele, were she more alert to give it.” Solas replied, with a nod. “I do not know how much truth there is to this Maker and his bride Andraste, but to hear the Chant of Light from her and the Commander…to see how it moved those around them…There aren't words to describe it.”

“Sometimes, that is truth enough.” Mother Gisele said, with a kind smile. “A kind word, a good deed, for those with power to help those without, these are simple things. Everything, truth or myth, starts from these.”

“Do you believe your Maker has abandoned the world then, like the stories suggest?” Solas asked, curious. He had not spoken to the woman often, but she was surprisingly more intelligent than he had given her credit for.

“I do not. If he had, why then would we say 'the Maker smiles upon you'?” She asked, with a soft smile. “Many in the Chantry do not share my thoughts, mind you. I would like to believe he watches over us, guides us as he can without interferring. After all, the choices are still ours to make, and help us to shape the world around us…Um…Pardon me for changing the subject, but I believe your bag is…um…shall we say…on the move.”

Solas whipped around in time to see the bag he'd sat down was indeed moving around. He quickly placed Alhasha in a cot, and gathered up the bag. He did not miss the little bit of laughter Mother Gisele had, or the dwarf tossing The Iron Bull a few coins. Instead of reacting to that, he got into the cot as well, and dumped the bag in between them, before covering them both with the blanket. He had missed her, had been worried out of his mind, and did not plan on letting her go any time soon.

-

Cullen's P.O.V.

 

Solas had been looking behind him for some time now, but Cullen hadn't allowed himself to think about it. He'd start hoping it was Lavellan, and he couldn't afford to think like that right now. There was so much to get done, all of these people to look out for, and if he thought about her for too long he would be lost. He was talking with Cassandra when he saw Solas go completely stalk still, looking out into the wilderness as if he were waiting for a sign. Whatever it was, Solas must have seen it, because the bags were placed on the ground next to the chest.

Cassandra had stopped trying to talk to him at this point, seeing what he had. Solas took an unsure step, and then another, and then he was moving as if he couldn't get to what he was seeing fast enough. That's when Cullen noticed it, the light that was not green but blue from lyrium that did not quite call to him the same way the kind in the bottle did. He saw Solas call for someone, watched as Blackwall came back with Fenris, stared as Solas walked back with a very **_large_** wolf in tow that nuzzled his hand. He made his way to Fenris, hoping for answers.

“Fenris.” Cullen called to him. “What can you tell us?”

“Corypheus…That's who the Elder One is. Somehow, an ancient Tevinter Magister has managed to find a way back from death.” Fenris growled, all at once angry. “I know this, because Hawke, Varric, and I killed that bastard once already. Trying to collapse the Mountain of snow on him just bought us time.”

“And the Herald?” Cullen asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

“Hawke was able to secure an escape route near the Trebuchet for her. Those diamonds…somehow she used them to create a barrier to keep out that thing.” Fenris replied. “If Lavellan could get to it, she's alive. She may be able to follow our tracks, and your old fire sites. The howling may also have helped. Hawke said she would try to lead her home if she could.”

“You mean that **_that's_ …”** Just then he saw the wolf phase, and Hawke appeared in it's place. Solas didn't seem surprised in the slightest. Cullen found an angry Fenris in front of him again within seconds, because he'd almost walked towards her.

“I **_know_ _._** I know everything you're about to think, everything you're about to say, everything the Order has told you, Cullen, but **_think_** for a moment. It's **_Hawke_.”** Fenris insisted, stubbornly. “It's Hawke, not a demon, or an abomination, or something to destroy. It's Hawke, the woman who saved Kirkwall more than once, that aided you when Meredith went crazy, that helped bolster the troops with you barely half a day ago. My loyalty stands with you, but only for as long as you do not go against her. The second you do so, I will be against you, because she is family.”

Suddenly, Cullen's mouth fell open as he watched a bag Solas had set down begin to move. He knew instantly what it was, but even so, the sight disarmed him. His struggle not to laugh caused Fenris to look over too, and they both began to struggle with not laughing. Solas whipped around to see the bag move, bolted to put Hawke in a cot, and ran after the bag. The sight of Varric tossing The Iron Bull coin over it made Cullen lose the struggle, and he started chuckling in spite of himself.

“I told him a Mabari pup was a handfull.” Cullen said, through his laughter. “I don't think he believed me.”

“It's better that it's a Mabari pup, I suppose.” Fenris replied, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Bull was insistant that Solas was getting her a night with you for Satinalia.”

-

She could not be seeing this, but there it was…A mabari pup was sitting on her stomach, nuzzling her hand…while Solas held her in his arms. Something was not right about this. Solas wouldn't tolerate a new mabari, so this had to be some trick of a demon or a fade spirit. He'd barely tolerated BarkSpawn, and that was only because the Mabari was an unstoppable force of his own, but a new Mabari pup seemed too outlandish a thing to happen.

Hawke rolled over slightly, giggling when the pup fell in between them. This caused the arm around her to tighten, alerting her that Solas was awake. She was almost afraid to look up, knowing that he would be mad at her. The pup looked between the two of them, and waited. She'd never seen a pup so patient as this.

“ _Tel'uth'sal, Alhasha._ ” Solas said, softly. “ _Ar shor'tel vara'na la'ra aelaes sal. Na shor'tel av'a ra or'em. Ema na aelaes sildearem la mar'lan'lath ema_ _dinem_ _? Ahnsul ra'air ahn min sildearem'la, eil tamelana in inor sa'vunin…Tel'iselena em sai vara o'na melahn na nuven sai te sulrahn…ir'on'ala y'aezaestaelia delavir._ ”

**_Never again, Alhasha – I will not leave you like that ever again. You will not ask that of me. Have you ever felt like half of yourself has_ died _? Because that's what this felt like, and twice in one day…Do not expect me to part from you when you want to do something…really epic or extremely stupid_**

“So, just to clarify, you're **_not_** breaking up with me then?” She asked, arching an eyebrow, in her playfully teasing manner.

“ _Tael melana Ar esay, na te eilar telir vaestol em ra Ar'eis eil eisydral, solasrolar, olaesyrn, bala'masa._ ” He replied, with a slight smile, before securing his hand at the back of her neck and pulling her toward him just a little for a passionate kiss.

**_Next time I try, you can always just remind me that I'm an arrogant, egotistical, overblown jackass._ **

 

_**-Ugh, gross! Kissy! Kissy!-** _

Suddenly, he pulls back from her in shock.

“Did you just say that?” He asked, confused.

“No, my mouth was otherwise occupied just now, if you remember. I believe that was the Mabari.” Hawke said, with a bit of a giggle. “Oh, the irony…”

**_-Treats?-_ **

“No, no treats for you.” She said, looking to the Mabari. “How can we both understand you?”

**_-Same soul. Like you both. He gives me treats. You same. You give me treats?-_ **

“Not yet. I think he has all the treats anyway.” Hawke said, as she pet the pup.

**_-I ate them. All of them. You give rubs. I like rubs.-_ **

“How is it that I understood everything it just said.” Solas asked, looking to her in confusion. “The pup is for _you_ , _Lath'in_ , the Satinalia gift I've been hiding…”

“I've never heard of something like this happening. You'll have to ask the Commander.” Hawke replied. “I'll assume he's your _Fereldan contact_.”

-

“Commander, if you can spare a moment, I have a mabari question.” Solas stated, with trepidation.

He was going to tell the elf he had no time for it, but just the way he looked made him stop.

“What is it, Solas?” Cullen asked, concerned.

“We both can hear it.” Solas said, looking confused. “It was too young to imprint till yesterday, and I kept it out of my sight then, planning to give it to her when we got back…but everything happened, and we can both hear it.”

“Both of you?” Cullen asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “That's unheard of…unless…unless…( _He whirls around to Varric_ )…Varric, you lucky son of a bitch, how in the bloody Void did you know that?”

“What are you talking about now, Curly?” Varric asked, walking up to them.

“Your tunic is safe.” Cullen declared. “In fact, your tunic is so safe, a mabari pup has guaranteed it twice over.”

“You don't mean…” Varric trailed off. “Both of them?”

“Both of them.” Cullen confirmed, then looked back to Solas. “The Mabari has imprinted onto the both of you. That only happens with kindred souls, or…what is that word…nas…something.”

“ _Nas'falon_?” Solas asked, looking like he'd turned a little green.

“Just because you probably cheated, and cast a spell to find yours doesn't make it any less true, Chuckles.” Varric chided, teasingly.

“It's just…I don't have a good history with hounds…BarkSpawn was an exception, and now you're telling me that because Alhasha is my _nas'falon_ , that that mabari pup has bonded to the both of us? That this has the potential to **_keep_** happening?” Solas asked, now looking even more green. “I need to sit down.”

“Who's going to tell Flint?” Varric asked, trying not to laugh.

“Leave that to me.” Fenris replied, with a pleased smirk, and headed her way with a few biscuits in his hands.

-

“You're not going to believe this.” Fenris said, as he handed her the biscuits when she sat up.

“It's bonded to us both, I know.” Hawke replied, her eyes alight with mirth. She looked at the pup, and handed it one of the biscuits. “Biscuit?”

Suddenly her eyes went huge, and she burst out laughing. “No, I'm asking you if you want to eat a biscuit, not if…Alright, if that's what you want. Your name can be Biscuit.”

-

Solas knew what the man wanted the moment the Commander sat down next to him, but he wouldn't address it first. His eyes were on the woman in the cot, and the mabari pup that had decided to name itself Biscuit. She had no idea how lucky she was, or if she did, she deflected it so as not to worry herself about how close she had come to death. She ran for danger when others ran away, _because_ others ran away, and now it was normal for her. Maybe that was a part of what she meant when she said she was always in danger.

If someone wasn't after her, she was after someone. She protected, defended, but did she ever think about her own life? If she kept doing things like that, she might not live long enough for him to fix his mistake, and he was not about to live the rest of his immortal life alone, not now that he had finally accepted what she meant to him; what she could come to mean to him. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he could say the same thing of her. They really were too much alike.

“Solas, I have to ask…” The Commander began.

“You want to know if she can find the Herald…sniff her out, for lack of a better turn of phrase.” Solas stated, looking to him now. “It is possible, but I don't know if it is advisable. Considering the attempt on her life, the many stamina droughts she drank on a near empty stomach, and magically draining herself in the fight for Haven, and whatever she did with the diamonds, I do not know how long she should rest for to replenish her strength. As it is, I am surprised she is even awake right now. Her magical reserves are so far depleted, I don't think there's ever been a reported case like this.”

“Normally, Solas, I wouldn't ask, but if the Herald gets lost out there she'll freeze to death.” The Commander replied.

Solas couldn't help but softly chuckle. He couldn't be mad at him for that. “After what I witnessed in the Chantry, Commander, I think you can probably get away with calling her Lavellan, maybe even her given name in private if you asked.”

“Teasing the Commander now, Solas?” Alhasha asked, sounding tired, walking over to them.

“Just a little, _Lath'in_.” Solas replied, his voice softening, as she sat down next to him. “Are you well enough to try and find the Herald?”

“Not like that.” She replied, somehow knowing what he meant. “But I can help you look.”

-

She takes her father's staff, because her own magic is too tired to react without help. She knows that Solas is worried when he sees it, knowing why she has it, but he won't ask her not to do it. They need the Herald too much, they all do. So she takes the staff, and holds it out in front of her, before throwing what looks to be a small round mirror onto the ground. Vivienne knows what it is, of course, because it's hers.

“At least we know what happened to my diamonds.” She said, in an amused tone, though Hawke is unsure how she means it.

“Yeah, now you'll see what I did with them.” Hawke replied, in the same tone, and taps the staff onto the mirror twice. It lights up, and as a result, all of the diamond mirrors she'd placed down begin to light up.

“Bread crumbs?” Vivienne asked, incredulously. “You turned priceless diamonds into breadcrumbs, dear?”

“Yes, though very expensive and shiny, breadcrumbs.” Hawke replied, with a wry sort of breathless smile. “These will either lead her to us, or us to her. Cullen, but you'd better hurry. They'll dim soon, and I can keep reactivating them, but with how long she's been out there…the sooner the better, you understand.”

-

“I get that she took something emotionally precious to you, because no one reacts that way about just diamonds, but that doesn't mean you have to act like a frigid bitch about it.” Varric fussed, surprising her. He had never spoken that way to her before, even as uncooth as he was.

“She took something she should not have, something that can not be replaced.” Vivienne countered, watching the girl now.

“She didn't, I did.” The boy, a spirit, she realized, said. “She needed diamonds, and you had them. They will help protect the Herald. She couldn't do it on her own, not with what happened before. Sweets and poison, trick or treat, so much needed and nothing left.”

“What is he talking about?” Vivienne asked Varric.

“You don't know, do you?” Varric asked, with a huff. “Someone tried to poison Flint today…well, yesterday, technically. She spent half the day puking up blood. She was barely on the mend when the horn sounded for the attack. I'm assuming she raided the apothecary's shop for all the stamina draughts he had, and raced out to help fight. That woman has never needed to use a staff for her magic, and now look at her. Barely able to stand, on her last leg, with _no_ magic reserves left, still trying to help.”

“She respects you. Free, but a part of something. Accountable without henderance. Powerful without fear of knowledge.” The spirit said, surprising her further. “The rebellion wasn't meant to happen. Her friend was sick. He lied, and she's left to pick up the pieces of the mess he left behind. The little bird must take up the mantle of Justice to save him from Vengeance.”

“She's not going to be able to do **_anything_** if she keeps this up.” Vivienne snapped, seeing that Hawke was at the last of her magic, even with the staff she held.

Vivienne walked over to the girl, and really looked at her. She'd heard about the illusionary age progression bracelet, but hadn't gotten a chance to really talk to her about it. That she had gone so many years without notice was fascinating, and it spoke to her strengths, but that was not what was important now. What _was_ important was that Hawke was using the last of her strength when she didn't have to, because someone like her was expected to be more than she was. What was important was that Solas stood somewhere fidgiting in the background, worried about her, but unable to do anything because Hawke refused to admit she needed help.

The woman sighed, and shook her head. Hawke really did remind her of herself in a lot of ways. They did what they could with what they had, and managed to gain positions of power even though a mage was not suppose to have such. Maker knows they had different ideas on how things should be done, and they may never agree fully on anything. Vivienne believed that magic needed an institution to guide it, but Hawke believed that the only thing wrong with institutions was that people corrupted them.

“I could breathe on you right now, and you'd fall over, Hawke.” Vivienne said, quietly. “Go. Let your love look after you. He's tying himself in knots over there just watching you. I can take over from here, and another mage after that. You've earned a rest.”

“High praise from you, Vivienne.” Hawke replied, with a wry smile. “Thank you.”

“Don't make me look kind now. It will ruin the frigid bitch image Varric has painted of me.” Vivienne replied, with a subtle wink. “I've worked hard on that.”

“I am sorry…about the diamonds.” Hawke said, before Solas guided her away. “The boy said they were important to you. I just didn't stop to think about what kind of important they were to you.”

-

They found the Herald not long after that, a few broken bones and chilled to the bone, but she was safe. The healers had tended to her, and she was recovering nicely. They were even cot buddies for a while, before Lavellan walked out to try and calm her advisers. Cullen and the others had been pointlessly arguing for hours now. Hawke rubbed her forehead, mentally telling herself she didn't have the strength to set them all on fire right now, when they began to sing.

“What did you mean before, about Corypheus?” Solas asked, keeping his voice low.

“I'm the reason he's out of his cage, I suppose you could say. It was my blood that opened the door.” Hawke replied, shaking her head in shame. “The grey wardens threatened my father with something worse than death, the death of his family, if he didn't help them renew the locks. He'd had to use blood magic to do it. Years later, crazed dwarves attacked my home in Kirkwall trying to get my blood. Me, Varric, Fenris, and Anders went to the location…somewhere on the map…According to the Carta, it wasn't suppose to exist…I'm not even sure I could get back there. That's where I found my father's staff, the staff of Andruil, where I found Corypheus. The things he said, Solas. He talked like he had been one of the Magisters that tried get into the Golden City. He described it turning black before his eyes. He was dead, Solas. We checked! It never occurred to me to lock the door behind us as we left.”

“So that's what you meant by him being a mistake we share.” Solas said, in realization. “My people lead the venatori indirectly to the foci that holds most of my magic. They gave it to Corypheus, as I knew they would. He was suppose to die in the explosion. I knew it would happen, expected it. At the time, I viewed it as an acceptable loss of life, to rebuild the world as it was. I did not expect this, to care, to regret…I did not expect you.”

“You never would have been able to try your plan, had I not unleashed him onto the world.” Hawke said, placing her hand on his.

“And I may never have met you, had the plan succeeded.” Solas replied, entwining his fingers with hers. “It was a terrible plan. I never should have attempted it.”

“You should tell her.” Hawke stated, pointing towards Lavellan, who was now reeling from what had just happened with the singing. Solas looked dubious. “She'll be angry at first, maybe, but it's better that it come from you than her finding out on her own through other means…like the prince of Starkhaven. Vael will make another move eventually. We can't pretend to expect him to only target us.”

“ _Lath'in_ …I…” Solas began.

“Maybe start small. Share what you feel comfortable with, what you're willing to risk her knowing.” Hawke suggested. He seemed to take to that better, kissed her knuckles, and left.

“Hawke?” Cullen called, not a moment later. “Solas said you were up. Mind if I ask you something?”

“Whatever it is, I assume I'm partially guilty, but without evidence it's too soon to be sure.” She declared, making him chuckle a bit.

“No, I…The Apothecary told me how good you are with potions and things, and I…I was hoping…” Cullen began.

“You could come in here and tell me, if you like.” Hawke stated, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Right.” Cullen said, and sat down in the chair next to her cot. “I've…stopped taking lyrium…With what happened to Samson before this…what happened to Meredith…”

“I saw what Samson was like before. Does that happen to **_all_** templars?” Hawke asked, concerned.

“They don't tell you that when you join up. Not exactly something that you put into the recruiting pamphlets.” Cullen replied. “I don't want that to happen to me. I haven't taken it since I joined the inquisition.”

“You're looking for a way to deal with the DT's then.” She stated, then looked horrified. “Is my being here hurting you?”

“No. The song doesn't sound the same. It's…less.” Cullen replied, though he looked uncomfortable.

“I'll try to help, but I can't promise fast results. You're the first templar I've ever heard of trying to get off of lyrium.” Hawke stated. “Listen…I wanted to thank you. Solas told me what you did, helping him to find Biscuit for me…The Mabari pup.”

“I was happy to…” Cullen fumbled. “What do you suppose they're talking about?”

“A few things come to mind as possibilites. Where Corypheus's power comes from, why Sebastian is after us both, and maybe him possibly talking you into cooking for her privately. She seemed _very_ interested in that when she saw Solas cooking for me before all this happened.” She replied, that last one making him cough as he tried to hide his blush.

“Maker's breath, Hawke. She's the Herald.” Cullen chided.

“No. She's Lavellan.” Hawke replied, bringing him up short. She saw Solas walking back towards them. “Give what I said some thought. She's worth the risk.”

-

“Still giving love advice to the Commander?” Solas asked, as he sat down in his old seat.

“Those two would be so good together, I just know it.” Alasha admitted, with a sheepish grin. “You should have seen the blush he had going when I told him he should cook for Lavellan.”

“Speaking of Lavellan…She knows the power Corypheus has is an ancient elvhen Foci, that in a way he was lead to it, and that I have secrets that tie me to why the prince of Starkhaven wants me dead and you for himself.” Solas said, with a tired sigh. Admitting that had taken a lot more than he thought it would.

“It might help if you admit the old stuff first.” She suggested, softly. “What did she say?”

“She wants to help if she can.” Solas replied. “She's a good leader. What did the Commander want?”

“I don't know if he'd be comfortable with me telling you. I'd have to ask him first.” Alhasha admitted. “I'm surprised he'd even ask for my help like that.”

“He trusts you, _Lath'in_ , even with everything his Order has told him.” Solas replied, not surprised in the slightest.

“He'd better, as manny times as I've saved his ass…Solas, I'm sorry. I don't mean to force you…” She trailed off.

“You're not, _Lath'in_. I'm just…hesitant and stubborn, like always.” Solas assured her. “It is difficult to trust when I have been the betrayer. They trusted me, all of them, and all of them were betrayed.”

“It's easier, when you don't have to face things alone.” She said, with a soft smile.

“It's even more so to forget you have people you can face things with.” He added, and climbed into the cot with her. “We are both known for this, I think.”

 


	12. The First Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:
> 
> This talks about some of the very real trauma after a rape, or sexual assault. Why a person's body does what it does during. Things like that. It doesn't go into details of a rape, but I felt the need to add the trigger warning jic. It always bothered me how people never seem to talk about how your body reacts in ways you don't want it to, they tend to blame the victim. Anyway. It's not a lot in this chapter, but it's here.

Chapter 12

 

“So, how long till the first fight?” Varric asked, looking over his cards. “And we're talking relationship argument, not knock-down drag out. They've already had one of those.”

“That was pre relationship, though.” Iron Bull replied, not even bothering to look up from his cards. “Wasn't it?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Blackwall chuckled. “I don't think it will take too long though.”

“Are you willing to bet your beard on it, Hero?” Varric asked, looking over at him.

“Not on your life, Dwarf!” Blackwall laughed outright.

“I bet it will happen before the day's out.” Dorian said, putting two cards back. “Tensions have been running high since we found this place.”

It had been a few weeks since they'd gotten to Skyhold. Of course, Flint had taken to finding a room no one else could find. Assassins could still be a problem. Since then, though, she had also been seen with the Commander at least once a day, usually after lunch. Solas had tried not to pry, but a guy could only see this for so long and not get jealous about it, and with Flint not explaining it at all, Solas was left to his own thoughts.

“Put your money where your moustache is, Tevinter, or shut it.” Fenris huffed, exchanging a card.

“10 sovereigns says it happens right after lunch.” Dorian replied, with a smirk.

Sure enough, Flint left the Commander's office right after lunch, picnic basket in hand. Solas showed up not five minutes later. At first, the two talked in low whispers, but that didn't last long. Flint's eyes promised war, but Solas was either too blind or too angry to care, because it soon became yelling in elvhen. Only Bull seemed to have a smile as he watched the fight.

“Either tell us what's going on, or get back to the game, Bull.” Fenris insisted, surprising those around him.

“First it was why she keeps having lunch with the Commander, then it was why it is important that she can't go off by herself anymore, and now it's something about what he saw in the Fade.” Iron Bull replied, with a smirk. “Seems he saw something he shouldn't have when he found her in the Fade against her wishes, and now she won't tell him what it is.”

“Vasta vas.” Fenris cursed.

“Why doesn't she just tell him off in a language we can all understand?” Sera huffed. “She's being an elfy elf today.”

“I think it's more that she wants to emotionally strip him naked in a language he knows best.” Dorian explained, making Sera snicker at the word strip and naked.

“One of you will have to go after Hawke soon.” Bull said, suddenly. “She's about to run.”

“How do you-?” Blackwall asked, or would have.

A resounding slap rang through the area, and it takes everyone a moment to realize what has happened. Flint has slapped Solas. The look on her face is one of shock and shame. She shakes her head slowly, as if to clear it, before she bolts. Solas looks torn in between wanting to chase after her and really wanting to hit something, before stalking towards the training yard.

-

“Solas, wait!” Fenris called out to him, not knowing what kind of mood the mage was really going to be in.

“Fenris, unless you can give me a clue as to how in the Void I'm suppose to deal with that stubborn woman, I don't want to hear it!” Solas shouted, angrily, before slamming a fist full of fire into a training dummy…disintegrating it.

“Damn, Chuckles, I thought only Flint got that mad at a training dummy.” Varric exclaimed.

“At least the bees aren't still in them.” Iron Bull noted. Varric nodded at that, while Sera just looked disappointed.

“What happened?” Fenris asked, biting back a sigh when Solas glared at him. It was like dealing with two Hawke's. “It will help me tell you what's wrong.”

“So she can't tell me what she's helping the Commander with. Fine.” Solas growled, throwing another fire wrapped fist at another training dummy. It meets the same fate as the first. “But she doesn't have to listen to the people whispering around me that think I can't hear them, ( ** _Punches another dummy to dust_** ) wondering why she visits him every day at lunch, ( ** _Punches another dummy to dust_** ) about the sounds they think they hear as they speculate that she's **_with_** him. ( ** _Punches another dummy to dust_** ) She won't talk to me about it, and thinks I have an abundance of patience to deal with something I've never experienced before. But if that were all this was, this would be easy.”

He seems to realize what he's said, and who he's said it around. Before they can say anything, he whirls around and punches another training dummy. It crumbles to dust as the fire consumes it. This can't be just about jealousy, Fenris knows, the anger Solas has feels like it goes beyond that somehow. The man is shaking where he stands, doesn't seem to realize that his hands are blistering because the flames from the dummies have reached him.

“Solas! Solas, snap out of it.” Bull said, moving the man over to them as if he were a simple child.

Solas does not react to Bull, but sits where he moves him. He's still shaking, and doesn't seem to notice as Dorian trys to heal his hands. He doesn't seem to see anything for a while. Fenris has no idea what to do about this, but he's reminded of when Hawke's mother died. The look Solas has, almost looks like the haze she was in for a while.

“Solas. You have to tell us what's wrong.” Fenris tried again. “I can't help if I don't know what's wrong.”

Solas always had his drawing instruments with him, so Fenris was not surprised when he nodded over to the pouch that he kept them in, but goes to look through them. What Fenris finds is not what he'd expected, though he wasn't sure what he had expected. He's shaking in anger now too, shaking his head at what he's seeing. No wonder Solas was so angry. Varric takes them from him before he can rip them, and looks through them too.

“You didn't know…” Solas said, his voice sounding detached.

“Not this…She just said he was drunk…that he wasn't acting like himself…She never said he…” Fenris tried to say. “She never said that he tried to…do **_this_.”**

“…This man in the white armour…” Solas said, coming to himself a bit more. “…This is…”

“Sebastian Vael, the prince of Starkhaven. Yes.” Fenris answered. “Solas, what happened earlier?”

“I showed her the sketches, admitted that I'd found her in the Fade and hadn't alerted her. I usually walk away and leave her alone when I am able to find her in the Fade, but…this time…I couldn't. I was trapped by what I saw.” Solas replied, breathing deeply, still upset. “She won't talk about it, not to me, not to anyone… ** _This_** is the man that's after her now…that wants me dead, and her…I can't even think it without wanting to destroy something…I wasn't suppose to see it, so now that I have…I'm not suppose to get angry about it?!…Does that make sense to you? How am I suppose to not want to kill the man who tried to hurt her, that is **_still_** trying to hurt her? How am I suppose to not get angry that he wants to take away the one that is **_mine?!_ ”**

-

At that moment, everyone within hearing distance froze. Solas tensed, realizing how far he'd let his anger go, and shook his head. No wonder she hadn't wanted to tell him. He had **_not_** handled it well, yelling over what he had witnessed in the Fade, over anything that would keep the argument going. He had backed her into a corner of sorts, and she lashed out as any wounded wolf would.

Blinking a few times, he realized Dorian was still trying to heal his hands. Just how badly had he damaged them? Etunash! They were blistered pretty badly. He looked to the training dummies, only to see their charred dust like remains scattered all over the grounds. The rest of the world seemed to come back to him in that moment.

“Creators, Solas, what happened to your hands?!” Lavellan exclaimed, as she ran up to them all.

“It is nothing, Inquisitor.” Solas said, trying to wave off her worry.

“…And the training dummies…” She said, as she paused to survey the damage. “Is that also nothing, or did they just…decide to randomly…explode?”

“I may have…helped.” Solas offered, with a crooked smile, not failing to notice the group's failed attempts to hide their amusement.

“I can see that.” She said, with a barely contained smile. “You and I are going to have a talk, and after that, I think you may want to go find Hawke. Yes?”

He could still hear the others chuckling as they walked away.

-

He owed the Commander an apology, that much was certain. The Inquisitor had walked with him and explained what Alhasha had been trying to do. It was news that she was only recently made aware of. It would be like the Commander not to want to bring attention to himself like this. What was it about Fereldans that made them think they had to do everything on their own?

“Commander?” Solas called out, after having knocked on the door.

“Yes, what is it?” Cullen said, not looking up from his paperwork.

“I believe I owe you an apology, Commander.” Solas stated. “The training dummies…”

“Training dummies?” Cullen asked, confused, as he looked up. “Oh! Solas! My apologies, I thought you were a messenger.”

“Too tall to be Jim.” Solas said, with a light smile, making Cullen chuckle a little at that.

“I should have said something to you before about asking her for help, but I…” Cullen said, a bit uncomfortable.

“That wasn't why I destroyed the training dummies.” Solas replied.

“Destroyed the training dummies? I'm sorry, Solas, but I'm afraid you have me at a loss.” Cullen said, now more confused than ever.

“Perhaps you should take a look outside. I…Well, I…” Solas said, motioning him to the door. When Cullen could see the damage, his jaw actually fell open. “I…may have…decimated the training dummies.”

“Solas…what did you **_do_?”** Cullen asked, shocked, looking at them.

Solas took a deep breath, and replied. “I punched them.”

“You punched them?” Cullen asked, doubtful.

“And they blew up.” Solas continued.

“They…blew up?” Cullen asked, trying to picture it.

“With magic fire wrapped around my hands.” Solas concluded, and waited.

“So, you took a fire spell, wrapped it around your hands, and punched the training dummies so hard they blew up?” Cullen asked, like he was trying not to smile. “Maker's breath, Solas, what did my training dummies **_do_** to you?”

-

She had no idea how it happened, but she wound up in the rotunda, sitting on the top bunk of what she assumed was a bed. It felt nice here, the smell of paint bringing about its own comfort. She would often come in here to get away from things. No one was ever here when she was, and there was always a new painting. She imagined that it must be where Solas spent a good deal of his time, because sometimes he would smell like this.

She'd overreacted, and she knew it. She'd told him she was having nightmares. What did she expect him to do, but check on her in the Fade? The look on his face when he'd found her there was unreadable, but she felt shame and anger well up within her, and she'd started yelling at him when he found her again in the waking world. She didn't want his pity, and that's what she was afraid she'd seen in his eyes.

“Voice ringing with fullness from both worlds, guiding me to the shining places. He calls himself pride.” Cole said, showing up beside her. It didn't bother her like she thought it would when he started doing that.

“Solas?” Hawke asked, looking to the spirit boy.

“He looks for you, hurts for you. Wood and straw are poor substitutes for a Vael, but they will do for now.” Cole replied. “He's said more than he meant to, the others smile and know. He meant to tell you first. You are where his love lives.”

“I messed up, didn't I?” She asked, with a sigh.

“You didn't want him to see beyond the door, didn't want him to know. Some doors should stay shut.” Cole said, not really an answer she understood. “This doesn't have to be one of them. You worry he pities you. He doesn't.”

“Cole.” Solas said, greeting the boy. “Would you watch after Biscuit for us?”

“He likes you both. Same soul, he says, treats and rubs.” Cole said, smiling as he hopped down from the bed. “But boy with the big hat finds him steaks.”

“Thank you, Cole.” She replies, as he and the pup leave. She hopped down too, and was going to apologize first, but she saw the state his hands were in. “Solas, your hands!”

They are wrapped, and bandaged, but it looks awful still. She doesn't even think about it, gently grabbing his wrists, and bringing him to the table. After everything that's happened to her, she'd taken to keeping a messenger bag filled with medical supplies, poultices and salves, around her at all times. He sits, and doesn't say a word as she looks over the blisters on his hands. She doesn't know how to say what's in her head, and so she reapplies salves and rewraps his hands.

“Dorian's work, I take it?” She asks, keeping her voice light. “The bandages, I mean.”

“He's a terrible healer, not a flashy enough area of magic, he says.” Solas replied. “The Inquisitor thought it best if magic was left out of this one. Blisters tend not to respond to magic healing well, and she may have felt I needed a reminder not to attack the training dummies so harshly.”

“In his way, I think Cole told me you attacked the training dummies.” Hawke said, as she tried to send cooling magic through the bandages. Sometimes that helped.

“Why didn't you tell me, _Lath'in_?” Solas asked, looking up at her from where he sat. “What he did…what he tried to do…”

“It was a long time ago, and I just wanted it to go away.” She replied, looking away. “We convinced him to get drunk with us…Isabela didn't know…We both thought he would want to go for her…She's kind of magnetic, you know?…She's got the whole 'I'm a free pirate' aura thing going for her…I offered to walk him back to the Chantry at the end of the night…He had refused her…He…He almost…He was drunk…He couldn't have known…”

“ _Alhasha_ , **_dian_.”** Solas cut her off, firmly, and stood up. _Alhasha, **stop**_ ** _._** He slowly walked forward, and with every step he took, she took one back, until she had backed into the wall without realizing it. He placed his forearms on either side of her head, and rested his forehead against her own. “Do not lie for him.”

“I'm not!” She insisted, stubbornly clinging to it.

 **“ _This_** is why you didn't want me to find you in the Fade, isn't it? So I wouldn't see, because then you coudn't lie to yourself anymore. You'd have to face it then.” Solas stated, keeping his voice even. “ _Alhasha,_ your fear was so palpable that it as good as physically held me there, and I could not move. There has **_never_** been a magic powerful enough to render me incapable of movement in the Fade before. I felt your fear, your disbelief, the moment you realized what he wanted, what he was willing to do to get it. You can not tell me he didn't know, _Alhasha_.”

“…He was my friend…” She said, barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Solas replied, softly.

“I had the bracelet…” She said, a last defense for Vael's ignorance.

“ _Alhasha,_ your age, or his lack of knowledge of it, does not matter. He was willing to go against what you wanted, for what he wanted.” Solas persisted. “He tried to take from you that which only you can give, whether it is the first time or any time after that. It is your body, _Alhasha_ , no one has a right to it but you. No one has the right to force themselves on you, ever.”

“But why did my body react like that?…He didn't get that far, but what he did do…Why?” She asked, her voice so low that he almost didn't hear it, looking at the floor now. “I don't understand.”

“Because your body and your mind are seperate, _Lath'in._ Your mind can not always control you body, and your body will simply react to the stimuli given to it.” Solas replied, trying to sound comforting. “It is not something talked about even today. It is ignored, simply because the thought of being out of control of one's own body is too horrible a thought to consider, because then people would have to admit that it happens, and that it could happen to them.”

“Hey, Chuckles, you got a minute?” Varric asked, looking over his notes. He hadn't looked up to see them yet. “There's a couple-”

“ _Not_ ** _now_** _ **,** Dwarf._ ” Solas growled, turning his head slightly towards him. Varric looked up, eyed them both, spun on his heels, and wordlessly walked out of the room. “Sometimes I hate that dwarf.”

“No you don't.” Hawke replied, doing her best to give him a smile through her tears.

“No….I don't” He sighed, looking back to her. “… _Alhasha_ , I don't understand. Why is it that you defend him so? Did you think no one would believe you?”

“It's not that…” Hawke replied, looking down to the floor, wishing she could be anywhere else right now.

“Then what is it?” Solas asked, confused, and then in realization, he said. “You said once, that everyone needed you to be something for them. Is that what this is?”

“If I could barely protect myself…how could I expect the city to have any faith that I could protect them?” She asked, still looking down to the floor, clinching her fists. “I'm the Champion of Kirkwall. I should be able to protect myself…I'm suppose to be untouchable. No one should be able to hurt me, especially not like that…”

“ _Alhasha_ , it is no small thing to say that he didn't get close enough to go through with it. You fought him, and even when you fight, you can still lose.” Solas insisted. “It can happen from the most powerful, to the least. Women, children, men, none are exempt in this. It would not make you any less strong to have gone through a forceful attempt on your body, successful or no. I doubt the city ever lost faith in you when they saw you had an injury. They saw that you survived a fight, that you lived to fight another day.”

“I shouldn't have let him get that close…” Hawke said, shaking her head.

“ _Lath'in_ , you didn't **_let_** him do anything. He tried to **_force_** himself on you.” Solas said. It sounded like he was at his wits end. “If he was **_ever_** your friend before, that is when it stopped. Even before Kirkwall's Chantry exploding, or anything else. That moment, when he tried to take what you did not give him permission to have, was when he stopped being your friend.”

-

He had not expected her to suddenly hug him. She cried, finally letting go of a weight that she had carried for years. Neither of them talked for a while, simply standing there in each other's arms as she cried. When her breathing had calmed some, she tried to step away, but he wasn't quite ready to let go just yet. Instead, he buried his nose in her hair.

“I'm sorry I hit you.” She said, guiltily.

“I did shout at you first, _Lath'in_.” Solas replied. “I did not handle things well, and I had backed you into a corner. After you left, I wrapped my hands in fire and disintegrated all the training dummies.”

“That explains some of what Cole said, but there was something else…” Alhasha said, lost in thought. “He said that you said more than you meant to, the others smile and know, that you meant to tell me first.”

“Now might not be the best time for me to tell you.” Solas replied. When she looked a little dissappointed, he added with a wolfish smile. “With Varric by the door, there's no telling what else he might hear.”

“Sometimes I hate you, Elf.” Varric grumbled, revealing that he had been in fact standing by the door.

“No, you don't.” Solas stated, making Alhasha laugh.

“No, I don't.” Varric admitted, begrudgingly.

-

End of trigger warning

-

A few days later…

 

Solas finds her sitting outside in the courtyard, starring up at the battlements. From what he could tell, Cullen and Lavellan were having a private conversation. He wasn't sure what Alhasha was doing though, staring up at them…Till he realized she wasn't staring at **_them_ _,_** but at the door that lead to the tower before them. Alhasha was playing wingman again.

“At it again, are we?” He asked, teasing.

“You laugh now, but you've just implicated yourself in my evil plot to take over the world.” She replied, watching the door. She straightened up, and muttered under her breath. “Damn it, Jim!”

She placed her hand to her throat, and spoke again, this time with a regal authority he did not know she could possess.

“Jim, do not to take another step.” She ordered.

**~Andraste?~**

Solas face palmed, for lack of a better term, and Alhasha took a minute to compose herself before responding.

“Yes, Jim. It is I, your beloved Andraste, bride to the Maker.” Alhasha replies, and then cringes as she squints. Hoping not to be struck by lightning, Solas presumes, as he sneaks a peak at her through his hand.

**~Andraste knows my name. I am unworthy~**

“Andraste knows the name of all of her children, Jim.” Alhasha responds, trying not to shake with silent laughter. “Now, there is something I must ask of you, dear child. Where do you think you were going just now, before hearing my call?”

**~I need to get this message to Commander Cullen! He said immediately!~**

“I'm sure he did, but right now I need you to stop, if but for only a moment, dear child. If you walk through that door, you will be interfering with the will of the Maker, and I might have to smite you.” By this point, Varric and Iron Bull have walked in on the conversation, and froze at 'smite you'. Solas is now staring at her with his mouth slightly open in something in between shock and disbelief, his hand having left his face now.

“5 Sovereigns says he does it anyway.” Iron Bull whispers.

“You're on.” Varric whispers back.

**~But he said right away!~**

“You truly are devoted to your Commander, and the cause of the Inquisition, my dear child, and thus to my Herald. It pleases me that you look after them so.” Alhasha replies, trying to keep a straight face. Varric has to sit down, or risk falling down.

**~Thank you, Andraste!~**

“But I'm going to tell you something right now, Jim. If you walk through that door, Commander Cullen is going to stick his boot so far up the crack of your ass that you'll be able to taste leather.” Solas is staring at her with tears in his eyes from silently laughing, watching as she's saying this with a snarky but straight face. The Iron Bull just arches an eyebrow. Varric slumps over so far he actually does fall down.

**~Wha-? Andraste?~**

“I'm going to level with you here, Jim. Sometimes, to help the fate of the world, I play matchmaker every few decades or so. I have been trying to get Commander Cullen, and my Herald together for quite some time now, as I believe that them being together will help mankind find its true path to salvation. Plus, just imagine the adorable little babies they'll make.” Alhasha replied, happily. Cassandra had joined them some time ago, and looks like she's warring with herself about how amusing and yet blasphemous this was. “But every time I do, you show up, and interfere with my divine will. ( ** _Cassandra is now trying hard not to laugh_** ) You know what? Walk through the door. Do it, and pray to the Maker that Commander Cullen doesn't stick his boot up the crack of your ass.”

“6 Soverigns says they kiss before he gets there.” Lady Montilyet says, out of nowhere.

Poor Jim is now racked with indecision as to what to do, obey Commander Cullen or listen to the Voice of 'Andraste', but it seems even then that the Commander is too slow. Just as he's about to kiss Lavellan, Jim walks through the door, bravely walking up to them, his face almost buried in his reports. Solas chuckles as Cullen whirls around and stomps towards the man, and everyone can see murder in Cullen's eyes from where they are. What they do not expect is for Cullen to whirl back around, once Jim is gone, and passionately kiss Lavellan till they both needed air.

No one had placed a bet on that.

* * *

 

Moments later…

 

“Jim told me something rather interesting earlier.” Lavellan said, walking towards the two of them. The others had scattered, being smart. Solas had stayed, wrapping his arms around her. “Something about how Andraste threatened him with Commander Cullen sticking his boot up the crack of his ass.”

“Creative liberties.” Alhasha replied, with an impish grin. “I'm sure Andraste would understand. She is a woman, after all. The fate of mankind was at stake. Adorable babies.”

“You take this wing man thing seriously, don't you?” Lavellan asked, her smile growing by the second.

“I have to. I'm a Hawke.” Alhasha replied, without missing a beat. “Varric will hound you for details later. Friend fiction reasons, of course.”

“Thank you, Hawke.” Lavellan said, still smiling, before she left.

* * *

 

“She loves you, you know.” A woman said to him.

Solas sighed in a tired defeated sort of way. So he was in a deceased soul's controlled Fade world. He had gotten use to talking to Malcolm Hawke, in a manner of speaking. The man was too much his daughter's father for it to always go smoothly. Now, here was someone else wanting to talk to him, and he wondered how many others would attempt this.

He looked to her for a moment, and realized who this must be. She smiled warmly at him, and something of her reminded him of Alhasha. This must be her mother. Upon realizing that, a look of comprehension swept across his features. It must have been visible to her, what he was thinking, because she frowned slightly at him.

“I see she's told you what happened.” Her mother remarked.

“No, Mrs. Hawke. Someone else told me.” Solas admitted. “I hadn't truly met her at that time…sort of.”

“I see…You've been talking with my husband a lot lately.” Her mother stated, simply.

“A lot has happened lately.” Solas replied, in kind.

“True. My husband tells me of his talks with you. I felt it time to see you for myself.” Her mother admitted. “You can call me Leandra.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Leandra, though I wish it had been under better circumstances.” Solas greeted.

“That's quite alright, young man.” Leandra replied. Solas couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at that comment. “I can already tell that my daughter loves you. What I want to know, is if you love her in return.”

“That is not a question easily answered.” He replied, and she frowned so he continued. “I am still coming to terms with what I feel for her.”

“Then what is it that you feel for her?” Leandra asked, and waited.

“ _Alhasha_ can never seem to stay out of harms way for long, especially if there is someone she feels she needs to protect. I almost lost her twice in one day, when we'd only just cemented the start of our relationship. Now, I have to worry Vael will kill her, or worse.” Solas said, not entirely sure how to answer the question. “I have never felt love. In my time, I have taken, destroyed, been offered to use another for physical pleasures, but love is new. I know that she makes me question everything, that I worry for her safety when she is not with me, and worry about what people will think of her when she is. I want her to be happy, even if it isn't with me, but I'm selfish enough to want it to be me that makes her happy. She knows my greatest mistakes, and still wants to be with me, even though I've been a stubborn jackass at times. I know that I like to run my fingers through her hair, like it's ink running through my fingers. She will always find a way to get into trouble, Leandra, but I will always try to help her out of it…or be in the middle of it with her already.”

Leandra smiled brightly at him, and replied. “It does sound as if you still have a lot to work through, but I can rest easy knowing that you care for her so deeply.”

 

* * *

 

Weeks later…

 

Lavellan raced back to Skyhold, though she'd already sent a missive with one of Leliana's messenger ravens. This should not have happened! She figured a girls day out, Hawke and the others would love it, but there'd been a rift. They were in Redcliffe again, so this one had all kinds of time weirdness attached to it. Hawke had just been standing there, and then the rift enveloped her, and took off!

 **“ _SOLAS!!!”_** She shouted, panicked, as soon as she made it through the gates.

“Sister Nightingale alerted me, Inquisitor.” Solas said, worry in his voice, running up to her. “I have tried to reach her. I've drank that tea, walked the Fade, nothing. She's not…She's just not there.”

“Don't tell me she's dead, Chuckles.” Varric stated, somewhere between a plea and an order.

“She's not dead. If she were, I would have at least seen her soul in the Fade, but there's absolutely no sign of her. Something like that just isn't possible. I can still feel her in my mind somehow, but it's like she's…subdued…a dreamless sleep of some kind maybe…” Solas said, shaking his head. “I don't know how else to describe it, and I don't know how else to find her. She could be anywhere. I would say that she could be cut off from the Fade, but I still feel her in my mind.”

“We'll find her.” Lavellan said, trying to reassure him.

* * *

 

“The little bird is with you, but not with you now, with you then. You know, but don't remember.” Cole said, looking to him. “She needs you to remember now. The wolf howling at her feet is her way back.”

“I've **_tried_** that, it didn't work.” Solas said, pacing, not understanding what the spirit was trying to say. Biscuit was happy to follow as he went.

“Hawke. Wolf. Evanuris. Words written on paper in neat hand. She knows now it is her _nas'falon_ who wrote them, but does not understand what they mean. She sleeps forever, but waits for you.” Cole said, watching him pace.

“She…wait… ** _I_** sent the mask to her?” Solas asked, stopping. “Why would I do that? Why would I make myself forget that?”

“You forgot so that you could know.” Cole said. “Skin so soft, her lyrium like fire in your blood, kisses so sweet, you need, you **_need_ …**her eyes so bright, like they see right through you. It scared you how much you wanted it. It still does. Had you remembered her words then, you would not have reacted the same, You would not love her the same, but you knew you would, knew you wanted to, so you took her words, and forgot them. You know how to remember now.”

“So the reason I can feel her in the back of my mind, but can't find her in the Fade is…She's in **_Uth'then'era?_** But…how?” Solas asked, more talking to himself than to Cole. “…Hawke. Wolf. _**Evanuris!**_ She's an _**Evanuris?!**_ She's with **_me!_** But then…how?…”

-

Solas burst into the war room during the middle of a meeting the Inquisitor had called in an effort to find Hawke. He ignored the exclamations of alarm and dismay, and began looking over the map on the war table. The Commander was about to say something when the Inquisitor held her hand up, and he realized that Solas must have found something. The Inquisitor had that look in her eyes, of hope and anticipation, and it was contagious. They watched silently, as Solas looked over the maps.

“No, I was never there…the veil is too heavy…” Solas mumbled, pointing to a heavily wooded area on the map, then another. “After Mythal…before the Veil…but how…She was in Redcliff…Where was I when…( _Points to another wooded area_ )…”

He turned his head to the Inquisitor, and spoke more clearly. “You said it was a rift. Are you certain, Inquisitor?”

“It was the same colour, but this moved. Rifts don't move, not like that, but I don't know what else to call it.” Lavellan replied.

“Has she ever been affected by the soul of a would be god? Perhaps one of the elven pantheon?” Solas asked, curiously. “There are few things that can move through the Fade and the Mortal world like that.”

“Flemeth.” Fenris growled, in annoyance, walking into the room. “Asha'bellanar. Mythal. Whatever you want to call her. She seems to have many names.”

“What happened?” Solas asked, now concerned. “ _Mythal_ was not known in her time for protecting without a cost.”

“She is our all-mother!” Lavellan exclaimed in confusion.

“Yet the stories say never to ignore or slight her in any way, least she turn her vengeance upon you.” Solas countered, not unkindly. “ _Lethal'lan_ , think, what would your mother do if you purposefully ignored her?”

“I don't care what she is.” Fenris snapped. “Flemeth asked Hawke to carry an amulet up to Sundermount. As it turns out, it held a piece of her soul, something she used to protect herself from a daughter of hers.”

“Would that be enough?” Sister Nightingale asked.

“No. I doubt it was _Mythal_ that moved her.” Solas realized, with a groan. “Something Cole said makes sense now…She is with _Fen'Harel_ , but not him now, him _then_. She is in the time before _Arlathan_ fell, before the Veil was errected.”

“How is that even possible?” Lavellan asked, alarmed. “Does this mean that her birthmark **_is_** a curse then?”

“No, it just means that it is going to be very…complicated…to get her back. Her birthmark would be enough for him to find her, but not enough to **_move_** her. There is also the mask of _Fen'Harel_ that she wears, though it does not have a piece of his soul. It was made as a companion, a spirit that wished to aid him.” Solas mused, catching the Commanders's and everyone else's attention. “She would had to have had something else…something tangible…something of blood…”

“You idiot.” Fenris growled at him, and waited.

Solas looked up at him, as if he realized something, then turned to Cullen. “Cole!”

The boy showed up next to Cullen, with Biscuit chewing on a steak.

“Commander, can you watch Biscuit for a while? I have to leave, and I don't know how long this will take.” Solas asked, a thousand things running through his mind. “This will not be a trip for a tiny Mabari pup.”

“Of course, Solas.” Cullen replied, taking the mabari pup from Cole.

“The lion gives him beef jerky, and lets him chase the recruits.” Said Cole. “He likes him.”

The Commander just chuckles a little, as he walks out with the Mabari. “What do you say to chasing Jim today?”

“He likes that.” Cole replied, and Cullen can't help but laugh as he's walking out of the War Room.

* * *

 

“Thank you for not asking a lot about this right now, Inquisitor. I'm not sure I would know how to explain it all.” Solas said, honestly. “I will need Fenris, Dorian, and Varric to come with me. I do not know how long this will take, Inquisitor, I don't even know if I can-.”

“It's alright, Solas. Take who you need. Get her back.” Lavellan insisted. Solas didn't hesitate, and Fenris followed him soon after.

“What happened?” Fenris demanded, as they went.

“Old magic. **_My_** magic.” Solas said, as they walked on, ignoring the curious stares of the nobles that tended to frequent the place. “Cole tried to tell me, but I don't understand it all yet. It needed to happen, so everything else could happen, or something like that. She is alive, Fenris, right now that's all I can focus on.”

“So where do we need to go?” Fenris asked, with a huff.

“ _Arlathan_.” Solas replied, without missing a beat.

“Arlathan is in Tevinter territory, Solas.” Fenris hissed. “We can't just **_go_** there.”

“Which is why we will need Dorian.” Solas replied, and the two moved to find the others.

* * *

 

“I'm sorry, you need me to do what now?” Dorian asked, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Fenris sighed, with his face to the sky, and tried again. “We need you to wave around your pretentious flashy Tevinter ego like a Magister, in case we have any problems trying to get to Arlathan.”

“Why are we going to Arlathan?” He asked, now morbidly curious.

“Hawke.” Fenris grounded out, clearly losing his patience. “Is in Arlathan.”

“How did Flint get to Arlathan?” Varric asked, intrigued. "I thought she disappeared in Redcliff."

“Solas will explain that once we're out.” Fenris replied, reaching the end of his patience. “We do not have time for this.”

“Actually, that may be the one thing we have a lot of.” Solas replied, as he passed them. “About 8,000 years worth of it, if my calculations are correct.”

 


	13. Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Solas has to actually tell his secret, he doesn't know that he can, but finding Alhasha hinges on it. What is she doing in the meantime?

Solas didn't say a word after that, so of course the other two had to follow. Dorian was intrigued with anything ancient, and Varric heard a story. At least the sun would make for good traveling weather. So they packed their things, and began making their way. Solas kept quiet throughout the entire day.

There was a part of him that was wondering why in all of Thedas he had thought this was a good idea. He had been avoiding this very thing for ages, and now there was no getting around it. He would have to reveal who he was. It was the only way to explain why Alhasha was in ancient Arlathan. He still had no idea where Fenris even stood on that, but he would need his support now.

That Alhasha had been sent to ancient Arlathan had not even phased Fenris, which gave credence to her claims of strange things happening in her life. Solas recognized this as being one of the crazy traits he'd listed when casting the spell, not that they happened, but how she handled them. He would feel a lot better, he hoped, when he began remembering her time in ancient Arlathan. Until then, Solas knew that he would be in a near constant state of anxiety and worry. By the time night fell, and camp had been set up, Solas had worked himself into a state of fidgeting and nervousness.

The others waited to hear what he had to say, but he wasn't sure he could say it, not without Alhasha there. She had expressed a wish to help him with his goals, and in revealing who he was to certain people when the time came for it, but neither of them had expected something like this to happen to her. Instead, he watched the fire burn, sending tiny embers into the air, crackling when it got ahold of a particularly stubborn branch or something. Night had enclosed upon them all, dampening any sound that may have tried to breach it. Only the fire seemed to be allowed to break the silence. It wouldn't be long now before the others started asking questions he wished he didn't have to answer.

"Alright, spill it." Varric huffed, finally having had enough. "Damn it, Chuckles, just what in the Void is going on? How is Flint in Arlathan? How do we have 8,000 years worth of time?"

"From the beginning then?" Solas asked lightly, before taking a calming breath. For a split second, he looked to Fenris, who gave a subtle nod that this was the right path. "Let me start by saying that  _Alhasha_ has always known, even before the kiss at the hot springs. From the moment she saw me, touched my face when I found her in that cell, she knew everything; who I am, what I was, who I had been, what I have done. The mark told her everything she needed to know in order to combat my stubborn nature. You were right from the very beginning, master Tethras, she and I  _are_  kindred souls. I knew it the moment I saw the mark on her ankle. I created that spell many centuries ago to find the one meant for me, and to shut the others up. It surprised me that someone had been born with it, that there were people who knew of it, if not its true purpose."

"So you  ** _weren't_**  spouting nonsense back in Haven." Varric exclaimed in realization. "You and Lightning said that it was the mark of Fen'Harel, but you're the one who created the spell, and she was born with the mark...Wait a minute, did you just say  ** _centuries?_**  Just how old  ** _are_**  you, Chuckles?"

Solas took a deep breath before looking him in the eye, and replied. "I  _ **am**  Fen'Harel._ That alone should tell you how old I am, master Tethras."

* * *

Varric's jaw drops. At first he thinks it's a joke, but the moment he looks in Solas's eyes and sees the flash of light like Flint's can do, he realizes the elf is not joking. These are perhaps the truest words Solas has ever spoken to him. He understands that Flint has always known this, knew it when she stole the kiss, when she'd asked him what to do about secrets she hadn't meant to find. Without warning, Varric starts laughing so hard he can't breathe, and it takes a minute before he can speak again.

"I don't know which is funnier, that Fen'Harel was tricked into drinking maraas-lok with a kiss, or that he...is co-bonded...with a  ** _Mabari!"_**

"Varric, that is  ** _enough."_**  Fenris growled. "Now is not the time."

"Why am I not surprised that  ** _you_**  would know?Varric asked, indignantly.

"Adopted brother trumps best and most awesome friend ever?" Dorian offered, with a sly grin.

 _"Alhasha_  and I share many mistakes." Solas said, nervously, rambling slightly. "...That she could have died, and I would never have known her...how foolish could I have been?...whether she had been at the conclave or not...In order to fix one mistake, I created many more. I almost lost her before I even knew she existed."

"You _**...you're**_  the reason the conclave exploded?!" Varric asked, angrily.

"Yes. My people indirectly lead the Venatori to the Foci that holds most of my magic. They, in turn, gave it to Corypheus, as I knew they would. He was supposed to die in the explosion along with everyone else. At the time, I viewed the loss of so much life as unfortunate but acceptable, to rebuild the world I had destroyed. I did not expect this...I did not expect her...to be here...to open my eyes as she has. I can not imagine doing such a thing now, not when I know I could lose her to it." Solas admitted, shaking his head. "When I told her, she just smiled and told me she shared my mistake. Someone had used her magic to do the same, and though the circumstances were different, the results were the same. I do not deserve such forgiveness, and yet she didn't think twice about giving it. Master Tethras, when she forgave me that, I felt the world change. That she knew every mistake I have ever made, every horrible thing I have ever done, and still wished to be with me, still willing to help me fix my mistakes...  ** _That_**  changed everything, and it still took meddling from the lot of you for me to even accept it."

"What aren't you telling us?" Varric asked, trying not to let his anger blind him.

If he wasn't so worried about Flint, he would have let his anger take over. Though looking at Solas now, he couldn't see this great bogeyman the elves spoke of. He was just a stressed out worried soul, attempting to make up for past mistakes, blundering through like the rest of them. His mistakes came with a death toll, but then again, Varric knew that Flint's did as well. But which did Solas regret, the mistake, almost losing Flint, both?

Solas's facial expression changed from nervousness to open worry. Varric knew that he had never really understood much about Solas, even with his ability to read people well, but to see the normally reserved elf openly worry was disconcerting. Not thinking about the secret of who Solas really was, Varric could not remember a time when he had seen Solas like this. What Varric did know, as well as anyone else, was that this was about Flint. The only times he had ever witnessed Solas display such open emotions, it had always involved Flint.

"Things that Cole said before are finally making sense. If I understood him correctly, my past self caused her to be transported back to the time before the Veil was erected. ( _Varric and Dorian straightened up at this._ ) She wears the mask I created long before I thought of creating the Veil, and my past self seems to have made sure that it was sent to her somehow. With that, the mark on her ankle, and...the bite marks on her neck, it would be enough for the spell to transport her. The only problem is that I don't remember her in ancient  _Arlathan,_  or making sure the mask gets to her. From what Cole said, I made myself forget everything. There is a good chance, that if she is like me, then she can rest in  _Uth'then'era._  If that is the case, we could still find her in this time, after having slept for the last 8,000 years."

"That explains a lot, but damn, Chuckles, this is a lot to take in." Varric said, or tried to say, when Solas interrupted him.

"There is more." Solas said, and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Vael...The prince of Starkhaven, knows. He knows who I am, and what  _Alhasha_  is to me. She is my  _nas'falon,_  my chosen, and he  ** _knows._**  What worries me, master Tethras, is that because of my involvement with  _Alhasha,_  he has grown even more obsessed with her. It is likely that he already knows she is missing. It is only a matter of time before he discovers where she is, especially if he has spies that even I can not hear. If he reaches her before we do...What he wants from her...I can't...we can't risk him trying that again."

"I'll start asking around, see if there's anything we can do when we get back too. This isn't going to go away once we get back to Skyhold. I still...that she knew this whole time..." Varric said, shaking his head. "When she said a big secret, she really meant it."

* * *

Ancient Arlathan...

He couldn't believe they were actually compelling him to do this. Just because most of the others were paired up, did not mean he had to be. He quite enjoyed the single life, or at least that's what he told himself. There were things he wanted, but how could he describe them to people who seemed lost to those virtues now? So, he reluctantly went along with it, and drew out a mark to identify his nas'falon to him.

" _Ra'n tol_." Fen'Harel snapped, annoyed. " _Mala vara'em ea_."

**_It's done - Now leave me be._ **

He didn't even have to look up to know that Andruil was waiting for him to complete the spell. They all knew that he had been trying to get out of this for weeks. It was only by watching him in his study, books of magic on every shelf, art supplies everywhere, that they could make sure he did what they wanted. Maybe, he realized, Andruil thought  _she_  would be the one the spell chose. If he had his way, this world had yet to know his nas'falon, thus ensuring that he could live alone.

As soon as he was done drawing the symbol, it lit up in the light green colour that his magic had taken to favoring, before turning a brilliant blue. The symbol rose from the paper he had drawn it on, and hovered in the air for a moment as if it were a bit of smoke. Neither of them spoke, and then the symbol faded into nothing. Fen'Harel knew what this meant, and tried not to let a smile show. There was no one meant for him in this world as it was, and the others would now leave him alone, knowing that he had completed their requirement.

" _Na tyr ea tundra o'ra, na'eolasa._ " Andruil teased, though she looked slightly disappointed.  _"Ar'an ane sasha esayal sai halani na._ "

**_You could be nice about it, you know - We are only trying to help you._ **

" _Na nuven samahl, ra air ga_." Fen'Harel said, shaking his head as he left.

**_You crave amusement, that is all._ **

* * *

She was being carried in some kind of stretcher, she could tell that with her eyes closed at least. Blankets...no, furs, covered her body...and she was naked. Just where was she, and why was it that every time she ended up in a situation like this, her clothes were gone? Maybe there was something to all the best stories starting out this way. She opened her eyes, only to see that the people carrying her were elves. Every so often, one of them would look down at her with curiosity and concern in their eyes.

* * *

" _Threna, threna. Es'an'ane garal. Es'an nuven sai dirtha i'na. Threna, threna_." Someone whispered to her gently.

**_Wake up, wake up. They're coming. They want to talk with you. Wake up, wake up._ **

" _Ugh, ahnsul eis Ai bajaer?_ " Hawke asked, with a groan. She sat up, holding the covers to her.

**_Why am I naked?_ **

" _Na shaesi vianem_." The young man said, blushing.

**_You were wounded_.**

" _Na telir nuvenem itha vis si jheisos jholaer darem ga'mahn_." Hawke teased, causing the young man to blush with wide eyes.

**_You just wanted to see if the lyrium went everywhere_ **

" _Na'ane then, on."_  A tall slender elven woman said, as she walked into the room. Hawke got the sense that she was a middleman of sorts. " _Nere na te dirtha iar ahn garem_."

**_You're awake, good - Maybe you can tell us what happened._ **

"Your guess is as good as mine." Hawke replied, rubbing her forehead, but when she looked up, the woman clearly looked as if she had not understood her. Just where was she? " _Nar ker air eis on eis emma_."

The woman looked at her funny, and then rattled of a series of questions. " _Ahn air nar melin? Mahn ane na'o? Ahn Eindri air ra?_ "

**_What is your name? Where are you from? What Age is it?_ **

" _Ara'melin air Aenorean. Ir'o Fereldan. Ra air Isenatha Eindri. Mahn ein Ar?_ " Hawke answered, feeling very disconcerted.

" _Na ane in si lath or ELvhenan, si mor'vharla or Arlathan_." The woman replied, confused as to why she would ask such on obvious question. She didn't get to ask about that, because Hawke passed out after she answered.

**_You are in the heart of ELvhenan, the city of Arlathan_.**

* * *

Hawke couldn't say how long she had been there, as the days had started running together, but she didn't know if she was ever going to get home. Since no one knew what to do with her, she wound up in the servants quarters. At least, that's what she called them. This place was more like a coliseum. She would see the fighters come back with wounds the should not survive, and yet they  ** _lived._**

At first, she started helping out with poultices and potions, unwilling to sit by and do nothing. They started calling her  _Sulahn'ean,_  Songbird, because she would sing little things while she worked on them. No one asked about the mark on her ankle, so she just assumed that maybe Fen'Harel hadn't cast the spell yet, but she walked around barefoot just in case. She was still trying to wrap her mind around being where and  _when_  she was. She wasn't even sure yet how she got there, but if there was anyone that could send her back, it was him.

The first time she saw him, she had been out in the training yard. With noises, weapons and things clashing, she should not have been able to hear him. She'd been talking with one of the fighters about muscle health, when her breath caught. She would know that scent anywhere, comforting, wild, unique to him. It was followed by the sound of talking, and then she saw him.

If he saw her, he did not recognize her. She wasn't sure why she thought he would, but the mark had begun to burn slightly. If that wasn't bad enough, her lyrium lines flashed for just a second, but it was enough to get him to look over the training yard where she was. He'd frowned then, unsure what was calling him to the area, and he'd left soon after. She'd let go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been been holding, and now she had to explain to a bunch of fighters why she'd spaced out like that...great.

* * *

" _Ahnsul te es'an panathe?_ " Hawke asked, looking to the head healer, a middle aged looking gentleman. Then again, she had no way to guess his true age, and she was not about to ask.

**_Why do they fight?_ **

" _Myatha si venuralasin, Sulahn'ean. Min air tel mai in nar melava?_ " He replied.

**_To honour the gods, Songbird. This is not so in your time?_ **

" _Din la min._ " Hawke said, shaking her head. " _Ehn pana sul si vianem?_ "

**_Not like this - Who fights for the wounded?_ **

_"Telin."_  The head healer replied, as if this were commonplace. Perhaps it was.

**_No one_ **

* * *

The next day, the head-healer was trying to talk Sulahn'ean out of fighting. These men trained for a very long time to fight, and the only thing he knew about her was that she was good with potions. He hadn't paid attention to the stories she told. He was currently trying to talk to the man in charge of scheduling the fights. Maybe if he voiced his concerns, they wouldn't let her fight.

Surely one inexperienced person could not take on fifteen seasoned fighters! The man refused to listen to him though, saying that she was more than qualified to do this. Maybe she was, the head-healer realized, and resolved to watch .it was his way of soothing his nerves, he knew, but it was the only course of action left to him.

So he was more than shocked when Sulahn'ean walked up to them with a cocky grin, and he could have sworn he saw a fang. She was in the clothes they found her in, loose but form fitting, and the ease of movement would help her, along with the knee high woven shoes. He couldn't understand why she was smiling, chatting in her native tongue with the weapons keeper as if they were old friends. Did she think this was a game? People  ** _died_**  doing this!

" _Na nuva ei sal'in'dial, ahnsul na ema din vallas'lin_." The head-healer stated, seeing as how he couldn't talk her out of this.

**_You need a mask, because you have no blood writing_ **

_"Tel'telsila."_  She said, with a big grin, as she snapped her fingers. The Mask of Fen'Harel appeared over her face. " _Ar ema sa_."

**_Don't worry - I have one_ **

And with that, she walked out into the arena, and left them there with their mouths hanging open.

* * *

" _On pan min'vir, Fen'Harel!_ " Elgar'nan said, snidely, as he strolled into the dining hall.

**_Good game today, Fen'Harel!_ **

Fen'Harel sighed inwardly, before continuing to sip on his red wine in his annoyance. The dining hall was usually filled with chatter, but this was one of the few times it was empty, and he'd been hoping to enjoy the silence. He should have picked somewhere other than the large open floored dining hall, but everyone already knew to find him in his study. He'd been feeling odd for weeks now, a pull towards the arenas, and he was hoping the quiet would distract him.

" _Sul ahn?_ " Fen'Harel asked, looking over at him.

**_For what?_ **

" _Vin. Nar panelan air ceri eolan, shaer thorael or ara on'ala panelana sasha_." Elgar'nan replied, as if he were relaying the most interesting news. " _Es'an shysi nar sal'in'dial._ "

**_Yes. Your fighter is quite skilled, beat fifteen of my best fighters alone - They wore your mask_ **

_"Tel'vyrordi."_  Fen'Harel insisted, snapping his fingers to reveal the mask still in place.

**_Not possible_ **

" _Melahn'an na myr dirtha ra sai si asha shaeosol ra_." Elgar'nan sneered, as he walked past.

**_Then you should tell that to the woman wearing it._ **

* * *

He kept hearing reports that a woman wearing his mask was seen fighting in the arena, often times after a group of Mythal's fighters were gravely wounded, and he wondered if maybe she was why he had begun to feel a pull to an area he'd always hated. The more she fought, the more attention she gained. He wasn't going to see her, thinking that maybe it was his attention she was trying to gain, resolving instead to send an agent to kill her and be done with it. With everything that was going on, he did not need another problem, and this mysterious woman sounded like one. This would have to be dealt with.

There were few pleasures that Fen'Harel indulged in anymore, but painting would forever remain one of his passions. It was here, surrounded by his paints and a tempting freshly stretched canvas, that he waited. He hoped the smells of his paints, and the pleasant breeze from the window he stood in front of, would calm him. Something about this entire situation felt like the edge of an abyss, reminding him too much of Mythal, and he needed what little comfort he could find. His thoughts were brought back to attention by the assassin he'd sent.

" _Nar vaedys_." Fen'Harel ordered, wanting to be sure that it had been done.

**_Your report_ **

" _Lanasta'em. As...Ar tel'dala ash, ara'tarlen._ " The agent replied, hesitantly. Fen'Harel would have killed him, but as he whirled around to face him in anger over the failure, the agent continued. " _Tamahn shar sulrahn or na o'ash_."

**_Forgive me. She...I couldn't kill her, m'lord - There was something of_  you _about her_.**

_"Aezal."_  Fen'Harel demanded, angrily.

**_Explain_ **

This could not be happening. It was worse than he'd thought. This woman was walking around wearing a mask she should have no access to, and had bested one of his own agents, not to say anything about those she had already bested in the arena. She was formidable, dangerous, and she had to go. He did not need unknown factors in his plans now.

 _"Ar'tel."_  The agent explained, fumbling for the right words, and then grinned. " _Tas, as arevlas ein era'vun...sasha. As dirth vhella ash tamahn vis na nuva esaya nar da'lav ein dalal ash nar'len. Na'masa. Ash av'a_."

**_I cannot - Also, she trains at night...alone. She said to meet her there if you wish to try your hand at killing her yourself. You ass. Her words_.**

* * *

It took him no time at all to find out exactly where she trained, almost as if he was being drawn there, but he did not approach her. She had challenged him, knew that she was prey, and so he would watch. He did this sporadically for weeks. There were times that he could almost swear she saw him, at distances no normal eyes should have, and would smile just a touch before looking away again. What he could not comprehend was his instinctive reflex to smile back, like he wanted her to know it was  ** _him_**  hunting her.

She was graceful, he noted, when he would watch her train. Now though, she sat on a stone bench, resting her back against the stone wall behind her. What he had mistaken for vallas'lin was actually lyrium! He knew the practice was done in Tevinter, a land he did not care to see, but how was she here? Had she escaped them then?

" _Ahn ane na tena?"_  one of the other fighters, a follower of Mythal's, asked, bringing Fen'Harel out of his thoughts.

**_What are you doing?_ **

_"Maneanisal."_  the woman replied, with a laugh.

_**Fishing** _

" _Maneanisal? Na ema si inan or Fen'Harel, eil na'ane maneanisal?_ " The guy asked, incredulously, his voice a harsh whisper.

**_Fishing? You hold the gaze of Fen'Harel, and you're_  fishing?**

" _Ar'tel aezalia ghi'mya ish, mala te Ar?_ " The woman asked, as if that made perfect sense, with an almost wolfish grin.

**_I can't exactly hunt him, now can I?_ **

Was that a fang? Was she a wolf in more than just name then? It took him a moment to realize that she was looking right at him when she said that, and when she saw that he finally realized it, she smiled even wider. He instantly smiled at her, but nodded to her to hide it. She did  _not_  need to know that her hunting skills were better than he had given her credit for.

He was almost gone before she started laughing. The fighter of Mythal was scolding her for something, but she didn't seem to mind. Now, at least that he was out of view, he could listen in on the conversation better. Something about her question stopped him for a moment. Had she been asking him?

" _Thu te'na ema din geal or ish?_ " He heard the man ask, concerned.

**_How can you have no fear of him?_ **

" _Vis Ir viral sai'dina, tol tas tua ra neralan_." She replied, and he just knew she was smiling when she said it.

**_If I'm going to die, might as well make it pleasurable_ **

" _Pyrder, Falon'Din air in rajelan or si panal tael'vir. Ra shor ea ei'len'myl._ " Mythal's fighter said, resigned.

**_Doubtful, Falon'Din is in charge of the games soon. It will be a bloodbath._ **

In that moment, Fen'Harel damned him. Falon'Din was Elgar'nan and Mythal's son, but the boy lacked his mother's balance. He enjoyed these games to the point of madness. She would be dead, and he would never know why he found her so interesting. Elgar'nan probably gave the boy the idea for amusement, not that the foul cretin would have needed a lot of pushing.

" _Tel vis na vevar mith'sai'em_." She insisted.

**_Not if you stay close to me_ **

It was her tone that caught his attention this time. She did not speak with the playful bravado from before. No, this was something else. Experience, knowledge, comfort, a calm before the storm. It sounded as if she knew without a doubt that she would win, that she would protect them. He had to know, there was no time to waste.

* * *

" _Na. Si asha ra shaes ara sal'in'dial, ehn air as?_ " Fen'Harel asked, in a demanding tone, when she left. " _Na shir dirtha'em ahn na'eolasa._ "

**_You. The woman that wears my mask, who is she? - You will tell me what you know._ **

" _Ar telir eolasa ash la Sulahn'ean_." Abelas explained, knealing before him swiftly.  _"As virajun i'si ladarelani, eil pana melahn tamahn ane tas'aan nuem in ei saes_."

**_I only know her as Songbird - She works with the healers, and fights when there are too many injured in a team_ **

" _Na shor telahna or min_." Fen'Harel ordered, and left without another word.

**_You will not speak of this_ **

Abelas stayed in place for a moment before standing there in shock...Fishing indeed, he mused.

* * *

" _Na rosa Falon'Din's ishana myl te'na'tel?_ " He asked, suddenly sitting beside her out in the training yard late one night.

**_You face Falon'Din's men soon, do you not?_ **

She smiled instantly, having missed the sound of his voice. So he had finally gotten curious enough to talk to her. It wasn't him, not yet, but it would be. Hawke was rather curious about who he had been before. It was a part of himself she knew he didn't like remembering, looking like he was in pain whenever he spoke of it. Whatever reaction he had been looking for, her smile hadn't been one of them.

" _Vin. Vis es'an ane la Elgar'nan's ishana, Ar shor ea san_." She replied, calmly, before looking over to him.

**_Yes. If they are like Elgar'nan's men, I will be fine._ **

" _Es'an shor_ _tel_ _ea la Elgar'nan's ishana._ " Fen'Harel said, rather forcefully. " _Es'an shor ea telam'el._ "

**_They will_ not _be like Elgar'nan's men – They will be worse._**

" _Ei len'myl ra air melahn'an. Ar ema nuvenem sai das ra._ " She said, with a heavy sigh.

**_A blood bath it is then. I had hoped to avoid that_ **

" _Na tel tirdana sai em. Ahnsul? Galin'y te._ " He asked, intrigued, staring at her inquisitively.

**_You do not kneal to me. Why? Everyone else does._ **

" _Nere ra'air ath'o nar telsila._ " She suggested, with a wry grin. " _Ahnsul te na sildeara ra na nuva sai ea myathem eis ei venuralas? Na eolasa thu soun na ane. Na tel nuven sa'lin'y sai dirtha'na ra_."

**_Maybe that's part of your problem/trouble – Why do you feel that you need to be honoured as a god? You know how powerful you are. You do not need someone else to tell you that._ **

He chuckled, but it was not the laugh she remembered, and that made her sad. It was something that makes him pause when he sees it, though he seems confused as to why he stopped at all. " _Ema na aelaes shael myathem?_ "

**_Have you ever been honoured?_ **

" _Vin. Ar venem ra…telsilal._ " She replied, apparently surprising him. " _Ga'lin shem'ala nuvenem em sai ea garaghnen sul ish'ala, eil Ir telir em._ "

**_Yes. I found it…bothersome – Everyone suddenly needed me to be everything for them, and I am only me._ **

" _Ra ema aelaes min vir sul annar'is. Syri i'tel sou sul'ana syri ra ema ra._ " Fen'Harel stated, as if it were something that should be obvious.

**_It has been this way for many years. Those without power serve those that have it._ **

" _Ra air_ _tel_ _ahn sou air sul. Tel onhar Arlathan laian._ " She scoffed, as she shook her head, knowing this would anger him. " _Syri i'sou ane sulevem sul'ana syri i'tel, shala eil inana tarsul ish'ala, eil tath na laima ra sul banalfelas_."

 _That is_ **not** _**what power is for. No wonder Arlathan falls – Those with power are meant to serve those without, to protect and watch over them, and yet you waste it on decadence.** _

Fen'Harel stands suddenly at that, pacing back and forth as if he can not decide which action to take, and then he looks at her. He  ** _really_**  looks at her, and for a moment she can see her Solas. Then he's back to pacing again, and she isn't sure what to think. Surely he's had these thoughts already, if Mythal is gone. Then again, she can't imagine what he's thinking.

" _Na dirth sai em la vis na eolasa em, la vis na ane tel'gela or ahn Ar ein. Telin'y ema aelaes dirthem sai em I mes poraendras, tel moli i've si elvar'linast'virai._ " Fen'Harel said, stopping his pacing. " _Shyr na…Shyr na sil ra vis Ar bororaer sal, eil dirtha i'na?_ "

**_You talk to me as if you know me, as if you are not afraid of what I am. No one else has ever talked to me with such disregard, not since before the wars – Would you…would you mind it if I visited again, and speak with you?_ **

" _Mesi_." Hawke replied, and then smirked. " _Na tyr te I ei da'athimathe, na eolasa_."

**_Sure – You could do with a little humility, you know._ **

" _Tyr Ar mala?_ " He asked, and if she didn't know any better she could swear he was fighting a smile.

**_Could I now?_ **

" _Ailaer_." Hawke replied, with a wolfish grin, and now she was sure of it. He was fighting a smile.

**_Indeed_ **

* * *

How had he gotten here? Where was here? There was noise all around him, and he couldn't distinguish any of them, disoriented as he was. This was not the Fade, this was the servants quarters, and they were fighting, but why? What had happened?

She shouted something at him, the look of concern clear on her face. He was shocked when she reached out and grabbed him, dragging him behind her. There was a ringing in his ears that he couldn't shake. Had something got blown up? She placed a barrier on the door, and turned to face him and the others.

" _Ahn air ra?! Air Arlathan shael direm? Ahn?_ " She exclaimed, worriedly.

**_What is that?! Is Arlathan being attacked? What?_ **

" _Din, Sulahn'ean, sila ahn Ar dirthem eirdyr Falon'din lathal ea ei'len'myl._ " The fighter he spoke to before, reminded her. " _Min air ra._ "

**_No, Songbird, remember what I said about Falon'din loving a blood bath? – This is it._ **

" _Ra da'etunash!_ " She growled, as she paced. " _Ahn ter na te i've?_ "

**_That little shit! - What did you do before?_ **

" _Ar'an dialem._ " He answered.

**_We hid_ **

" _Ahnsul_ _?_ " She asked, just as a blast tried to break through her barrier.

**Why?**

" _Telin enasa eindral din._ " Fen'Harel replied, with a sense of inevitability.

**_No one wins against death_ **

" _Inana'em._ " She growled, just as they finally managed to break the barrier.

**_Watch me._ **

She whirled around so fast, he almost didn't see the shine in her eyes as she shot out her hand…instantly turning those that had just run into the room into stone. Apparently this surprised everyone else as well. She replaced the barrier with a flick of her wrist, and turned back to them. He had cloth to her face before anyone could say a word. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out why he just did that.

Mythal's fighter said something to her that he didn't understand, and he looked to the man in confusion.

" _Relinal_. Bleeding." The fighter explained, pointing to her nose.

" _Ar'eolasa._ " Fen'Harel said, in thanks, then turned to her again. " _Nar inan…thu?_ "

**_I understand – Your eyes…how?_ **

" _Pan mala, dirtha jharaes, vin?_ " She said, simply, ignoring his question.

**_Fight now, talk later, yes?_ **

He watched her, walking with them, as she guided them through to the weapons room, barking out orders as if she were a General…as if she had done this before. She actually  ** _ignored_**  him. No one had ever done that, and he didn't like the feeling of it. However, to watch her motivate those around her was fascinating. The way she used magic, like it was a living weapon, soon took over his annoyance at being ignored.

" _Ina'lan'ehn._ " He says to himself, before he can think better of it.

**_Beautiful._ **

She heard him, though he doesn't know how, with everything going on around them, her smirk is proof enough of that. Then again, he knows that she is something more. The sound of fire and steel cover everything else. Her orders begin to ring out over everything, but the push back on her magic causes her to fall backwards. His hands steady her shoulders without a thought.

She nods her thanks, and gets back to work. He can tell from how she moves that she is using more magic than she's used to doing, most of it to protect the others as they fight, but she doesn't slow down. He can see Falon'Din in the seats reserved for the Evanuris, knows that the boy is surprised that there is a mage in the ranks of Mythal's fighters. She has hidden that fact till now. Falon'Din is even more surprised to see  ** _him_**  there, but knows that he can not interfere in the games and so the boy smirks anyway.

That all stops when she turns her attentions on Falon'din himself. The boy stands up from his seat as if to get a better view of the arena. She moves out of the formation she'd created of the fighters of Mythal, and waves. All his fighters have turned to stone around them, and the entire stadium goes silent. She shouldn't have done that, not if she wanted to stay hidden, but there was no undoing it now.

" _Eil Evanuris? Na?_ " Falon'Din growled, when he gets to her, reaching forward and grabbing her throat. " _Melahn ar'an sul'emem na inor, na telir ema ei vhen'an'shaer, eil thu na ema si baesi dala ma ishana!_ "

**_An Evanuris? You? - When we brought you in, you barely had a heartbeat, and how you have the nerve to kill my men!_ **

" _Vis na tel'laia or em._ " She hissed through his hold, one hand holding onto his wrist. " _Na telem tua sast'el_ _ishana._ _Eolasa?_ "

**_If you don't let go of me – you won't be able to create anymore_ men. _Understand?_**

Suddenly, Falon'din was caught in between rage and fear. Fen'Harel wasn't sure he'd ever seen the look on the young man, and as he looked at him, he couldn't see why…until he saw where her other hand was. She had taken a small dagger, and was pushing into uncomfortable territory for a male. Now he understood the wording, at least. He wouldn't be able to create any more anything with no…equipment.

The boy let go of her throat, and she backed away just a little. The blue eyed elf just stared at her in anger, hands twitching every so often. She turned to leave, but Fen'Harel stops her. In the night, her eyes reflected the light of the moon, glowing a brilliant blue. It does not occur to him why he's getting lost in them, he just knows he is. A quick movement behind her pulled him from his thoughts though, and without thinking about it, he moved her out of the way…only to get punched in the face himself…

" _Na ailaesaesaer i'ma panal!_ " Falon'Din yelled, going in for another punch, not caring that it was Fen'Harel he'd hit instead.

**_You interfered with my games!_ **

" _Min shar'tel ei pana, ra shar ei elvar'linast'vir!_ " Sulahn'ean shouted back, not backing down.

**_This wasn't a game, it was a raid!_ **

Elgar'nan was beside his son in a matter of seconds. It was clear that he had witnessed the woman's magic. He knew she was an Evanuris, knew what that meant, and held his son back from doing anything else. Wars have started for less, they know. They've lived through two of them. He looks from his son, to Sulahn'ean.

" _Tasi sai nar vianem, asha._ " Elgar'nan said to her, then looked to him. " _Ar'an shar dirtha myl, Fen'Harel._ "

**_Tend to your wounded, woman – we will talk soon, Fen'Harel_ **


	14. Past and Present; Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Solas and the others race to get to her, Hawke is busy just trying to make it through Ancient Arlathan. But this is Hawke, and she can't stop getting in trouble, or making things interesting. What's even more interesting is that while Solas and the others search for her, he begins to slowly remember her time in Ancient Arlathan. This leads to some embarrassing times for Solas, and entertainment for the others.

Chapter 14

 

“Do you have any idea what you've just done?!” Abelas asked, his voice low, nervous now. “You've…”

“I've just cheated death, that's what I did. I may also need to check my brown pants.” Sulahn'ean replied, feeling the rush. “I was bluffing so hard I couldn't even see straight. I can't believe that worked. The legends do not talk about _Falon'din_ being such a tit. Was that _Elgar'nan?_ I thought he'd be taller. Where is _Mythal?_ Surely she wouldn't raise her son to be such an ass-hat.”

“ _As'tel'olasa_.” Abelas said, looking to a now saddened Fen'Harel.

**_She doesn't know_ **

“Oh! _Nar sal'in!_ ” She exclaimed, looking at how blood seemed to be pouring from his nose. “ _Ir abelas, lasa em halani._ ”

**_Your face! – I'm sorry, let me help._ **

The rest of them would look at her like she's crazy, but they've gotten used to her by now. So they walked back to their rooms. Anyone who was injured went to the healers rooms, where she was headed, dragging a half responsive Fen'Harel behind her. When she sat him down and began to work on poltices and bandages for the others, she might not have noticed Fen'Harel staring at her as she sang, but Abelas did. It seemed that not even Fen'Harel was immune to her songs.

He also noticed a sudden shift when Fen'Harel noticed her ankle. She had taken her shoes off for comfort, and cleaned up before getting to work on everyone. The mark there resembled a howling wolf, but she hadn't said it was anything important, so Abelas hadn't thought a thing about it. What if the mark was more than it appeared to be? He saw Fen'Harel pay more attention to her now. Could he really leave these two alone and know that she would be safe?

“Abelas, I'll be fine.” Sulahn'ean assured him, when she caught him staring. “Go. Get some sleep.”

-

Just a moment earlier…

 

At least now he understands why they call her Songbird. Her voice is soothing, as he watches her work on the others, he can not help but get caught up in her voice, and that's when he notices a mark on her ankle. He isn't sure what it is at first, where she moves about as she works, but when he finally gets a good look at it, he understands. She is why he is has been drawn to the arena, why he felt a new power here, and he is uncertain of what to do about it.

That mark was to reveal to him his nas'falon in another time! The spell had shown that she was not alive yet, so how was she here **_now_?** Is **_this_** why she spoke to him as if she already knew him? He looked over to the fighter of Mythal he had spoken with, only to realize that the man had caught him staring at Sulahn'ean. Fen'Harel wonders just how much the fighter knows about her really now.

“ _Abelas_ ,…” Whatever else she says is lost on him, but the fighter Abelas seems to understand.

“ _On'nydha, Sulahn'ean._ ” Abelas, replied with a slight bow before leaving.

_**Goodnight, Songbird** _

“ _Is telsian sul na._ ” Fen'Harel stated, once he was gone.

_**He worries for you** _

“ _Vin_.” She replied, and went about working on cleaning him up.

_**Yes** _

“ _Si vianvallas sul na shos'lavin…te'na'eolasa ahn ra suleva?_ ” He asked, now that he had her full attention.

**_The mark on your ankle…do you know what it means?_ **

“ _Ar'te._ ” She said, surprising him, but what she said next surprised him more. “ _Na dirthem'em la ar'an dhamem i'ei'ise…y'varaes, na shar dirtha'em._ ”

**_I do – You told me as we sat by a fire…or rather, you will tell me._ **

“ _Ahn te'ra suleva?_ ” He asked, practically demanding it of her. One of the pieces he'd put to the spell was for her to be from some _when_ else, after all.

**_What does that mean?_ **

“ _Vis ra'n nar'mah, ane na mesi na'nuva sai eolasa?_ ” She asked, her eyes catching his with their uncertainty. It is clear to him now that she has been wrestling with this for a while. She has been done with cleaning him up, but her hands still linger on his face. “ _Nar'inan…es'an britha vian'el mala…_ ”

**_If it's your future, are you sure you want to know? - Your eyes…they seem more open now…_ **

Something in the way she says that catches him, and he knows. She is his future, he knows this like he knows nothing else, knows that his future self has accepted her. Her being here is proof enough. She knows who he is, and is not afraid of him. He is fairly certain she has been hunting him instead, when he was always supposed to be hunting her, and the idea of it infuriates him.

Well that wasn't going to stand unchallenged, and with that thought in mind, he pinned her against the wall. One of his hands held her wrists above her head, the other one wrapped around her throat. She was surprised, but not fearful like he expected, her eyes widening a touch. Instead of fearing him, she relaxed into his touch as if she trusted him fully, as if she knew he would do this. He tested this theory, tightening his grip on her throat, and still there was no fear of him.

“ _Ar tyr dala'na._ ” He says, domineering, possessive. It is the only way he will know.

**_I could kill you._ **

“ _Na'tyr. Na'telem_.” She replies, softly, without fear. The trust and faith in her voice is enough to unmake him.

**_You could. You won't._ **

“ _Banalasa'em vis na'nuvenin._ ” He stated, relaxing the grip on her throat, and kissed her before she could say anything.

**_Refuse me if you wish_ **

When they stop because they can't breathe, she grins as if she has him right where she wants him, as if she's lured him there. Perhaps she has, he thinks to himself. It makes his mind dizzy to think that there may be someone that could challenge him. That is not something he's known, someone that would try to take the control away. Everyone else just gave him what he wanted, and now he was morbidly curious to know if she would be different.

“ _Na tath sila na ane si_ _ghi’myelan,_ _melahn na ane si manean ailaer_.” She teased, her eyes alight with mischief.

**_You still think you are the hunter, when you are the fish instead._ **

-

Present day…

 

Solas bolts up from a sound sleep, to find that the rest of the traveling party are all staring at him like he's grown an extra head. This is worse than the last time, because now he is without even the Seeker's skewed voice of reason. Varric looks like he's struck more story gold. Dorian is one syllable away from bursting into laughter. Fenris looks like he can't decide if he's amused or if he wants to kill him.

It is morning now, but barely, and even the sun seems reluctant to wake. Only birds can be heard flitting about, calling to each other and hunting for food. So why is it, that he can hear breathing outside of camp? Looking around to the others, he can tell they have not yet noticed, each too amused in his embarrassment. If he's right, one swift knife should do it.

Without a word to anybody, he quickly picks up the dagger he keeps by his pillow, and throws it into the underbrush. A surprised grunt quickly stops everyone from asking why he'd done that, and Fenris follows the sound to the source. A moment later, he tosses a familiar elf into the middle of camp. He can't believe it, it's that fucking male-whore with the tattoos! Solas is halfway across the way before Fenris stops him.

“Give me **_one_** good reason why I shouldn't kill him.” Solas demanded, angrily.

“As annoying as he is, he's her friend.” Fenris replied, with a huff. Somewhere in that, Solas gets the sense that Fenris has wanted to kill him at one point or another as well, and he relaxes inwardly.

“Why are you here?” Solas asked, looking to the blonde elf.

“To help Hawke. Sera sent me. Scary when she gets angry, that girl.” Zevran replied, still as easy going as he had been in the cage. The dagger had only gone though his shirt,just at his shoulder…No injury, but not a mistake either, and from the look the assassin was giving him, he knew it too.

“I'm not even going to ask about that one, Zev.” Varric said, shaking his head. Instead, he looked to Solas. “So what happened before you woke up, and don't say nothing. I will do imitations if I have to, Chuckles, so help me. You sounded…very…smoldering…there at the end.”

“I think…I've remembered something.” Solas replied, sitting back down in his bedroll. “They called her _Sulahn'ean_ …Songbird. I don't know what in the Void she was thinking, challenging _Falon'Din_ as she did, but she was…there aren't words, Master Tethras. She fought his men, threatened his life and his bits, and turned around and treated the wounded as she could. _Mythal's_ fighters owe her their lives.”

“What does _Ba nal lasa em vis na nuv en in_ mean?” Varric asked, with a mischievous grin, and Solas froze.

“I spoke in my sleep.” Solas said, suddenly filled with dread. **_Etunash!_** He had thought the dwarf meant moans like before, not talking!

“Yep, you said a lot, but that's the only phrase I want translated.” Varric smirked. “The way you said it was very telling.”

“Then I assume you can come up with your own translation, Child of the Stone.” Solas retorted, turning his head.

“It will be worse for you if I do.” Varric replied, his grin getting bigger.

“He's right. You don't want to know some of the things he's come up with when left to his own devices.” Fenris said, in rueful agreement. “How do you think 'Swords and Shields' happened?” Solas cringed at that.

“Fine. _Banalasa'em vis na'nuvenin._ It means…'Refuse me if you wish'.” Solas replied, grudgingly. “You are a **_foul_** dwarf, and I hate you.”

“No you don't.” Varric smirked. “Great stuff for my friend fictions, by the way.”

“He is still doing that?” Zevran asked, looking to Fenris.

“With no plans to stop, it seems.” Fenris replied, with a frustrated sigh.

“Do you remember anything else, Solas?” Dorian asked.

“As of that memory, she was still in Arlathan.” Solas replied, then smiled. “She insists that she is a terrible hunter, preferring to think of how she deals with my stubbornness as fishing.”

Everyone, even Zevran, laughed at that.

-

Back in ancient Arlathan…

 

This was just too good, too entertaining, and Elgar'nan could barely believe what he was seeing. Fen'Harel was so focused on something, that he did not even notice Elgar'nan watching him. The man's habits had changed over the last few weeks, and now someone who took no interest in the games was now hanging around the arena. More importantly, he was hanging around the healers quarters where it was rumoured that the young woman wearing his mask was staying. When Elgar'nan got closer, he realized in part why Fen'Harel hung around that spot so much.

One of his servants had told him that those with Mythal's vallas'lin referred to her as Sulahn'ean. He could hear her voice, and see the affect it had on Fen'Harel. He had never seen the man look so at peace. Fen'Harel was leaning against a wall, his head resting against it with his eyes closed as he listened to her singing as if her voice melted the years away. Elgar'nan smirked, apparently wolves could be tamed.

“ _Ar eolasa na'ane tor tamahn, na'eolasa_.” She called out, and Elgar'nan watched as a slow smile spread across Fen'Harel's face. “ _Na tyr garas in eil dirth sai em_.”

**_I know you're out there, you know – You could come in and talk to me_ **

“ _Vis Ar te ra, na telem sulena sast'el. Melahn'an ahn shor Ar te?_ ” Fen'Harel asked, teasingly.

**_If I do that, you won't sing anymore. Then what will I do?_ **

“ _Ir mesi na'shor sila or sulrahn._ ” She teased back, as she walked out to meet him.

**_I'm sure you'll think of something_ **

Elgar'nan was beside himself. Fen'Harel is teasing a woman, and honestly, he didn't think that was possible. It wasn't as if the man was above putting on the charm for a dalliance, but Fen'Harel never really showed more than a passing interest in them, and yet he was teasing this woman! Who was she, and why was she talking to him as if he were not a god? Whoever she was, Elgar'nan was sure she would only lead to trouble.

One of the other healers, Elgar'nan guessed the head healer, came out to talk to them. Strange that he couldn't understand the language. Even more strange was that the woman responded to him in kind, though he could tell she spoke whatever it was much more fluently than the healer. Even Fen'Harel was picking it up! Just what was going on here?

“ _Ar shor ea vaelolol na or Sulahn'ean sul si dhea'lam._ ” Fen'Harel stated, and Elgar'nan breathed a sigh of relief. There was the usual arrogance that had been missing.

**_I will be relieving you of Sulahn'ean for the evening._ **

She lightly punched Fen'Harel in the chest, and Fen'Harel only looked at her with amusement! There wasn't anyone alive that had lived through doing such a thing unpunished. It seemed that Fen'Harel was fascinated with this woman then. Could there be something more to her? What wasn't he seeing?

“ _Na sil enal'sal ra? Nere i'sulo talaes min melana?_ ” The woman asked, arching an eyebrow as she looked up at Fen'Harel, who looked at her with surprised amusement in turn.

**_You mind repeating that? Maybe with some manners this time?_ **

“ _Ahnsul? Is shor tel banalasa em._ ” Fen'Harel replied, looking a bit surprised and confused.

**_Why? He will not refuse me._ **

“ _Is nere tel, y Ar shor._ ” She replied, her voice sounding as if in warning, crossing her arms in front of her.

**_He might not, but I will_ **

“ _Na shyr banalasa em?_ ” Fen'Harel asked, looking over to her, the healer now forgotten, as he grinned. There was nothing he loved more than a good chase, even Elgar'nan knew that.

**_You would deny me?_ **

“ _Ar shyr banalasa na garahnen._ ” She replied, grinning back at him in the same manner.

**_I would deny you everything._ **

Before Elgnar'nan knew what was going on, she'd frozen Fen'Harel and made a run for it, laughing in delight as she ran. The spell only lasted for a moment, before Fen'Harel was free again, and he ran after her with a wolfish grin on his face. Elgar'nan just stared after them as if he'd never seen anything like it. The head healer just shook his head, as if this were common place and yet still amusing. Sounds of her shrieks of laughter could be heard even as he approached the healer in question. He had only one question for the man.

“ _Ane Es'an la'ra ga'si'melava?_ ” Elgar'nan asked, looking from the healer to the direction he'd seen Fen'Harel chase the woman.

**_Are they like that all the time?_ **

The man's answering smile, and slight nod, were all that Elgar'nan needed. He swiftly turned around, and walked back to the palace. While he respected Fen'Harel, and understood that there was something going on between him and that newly found Evanuris, Elgar'nan was not above helping his son get a bit of revenge. A part of him wanted to follow them, and see for himself what they were like. The other part of him smiled at the thought of helping his son best Fen'Harel by getting revenge on the woman that bested him.

-

It was easy to track her through the trees, her shrieks of laughter giving her away. There are already those that whisper 'May the Dread Wolf never find you', so he marveled at how she seemed to delight in the fact that he was chasing her. He could not remember a time like this, chasing after someone he wanted simply because they wished it. The thick growth of the forest allowed for running through without scraps, but there were very few clearings he could pin her down in. He did not have to wait long before she ran straight for one.

“Did you think to outrun me?” Fen'Harel asked, right before catching her, causing them both to tumble down onto the ground.

“Did you really think I was trying to?” She replied, grinning up at him. His only response was to return her grin with one of his own. “ _Vana manean._ ”

**_Silly fish._ **

“ _Sulahn'ean_.” He growled, playfully, before descending for a kiss.

-

Several days later...

 

He stood in between two parties, Sulahn'ean and the men who wanted to escort her to the palace. She had refused to leave the comfort of the healers work space when she realized who they were looking for, forcing Abelas to talk with them first. That had lead to this intense situation, in which he was trying to negotiate peace in a narrow hall way. The only thing that had stopped them from grabbing her without a word, was the fact that Abelas had called her _'Esem_ _or_ _Fen'Harel',_ Chosen of Fen'Harel.

 ** _That_** had been an interesting conversation to have. He'd gone back to the Healer's rooms, only to find Sulahn'ean pinned up against the wall, her arms above her head as Fen'Harel kissed her. He should have stopped when he'd heard the words ' _Banalasa'em vis na'nuvenin_ ', but instead had been unable to move as he thought over the implications of what that phrase meant. Fen'Harel had never, in all of his memory, given someone the choice to refuse him anything. As a god, he could have anything he desired, and yet he had given Sulahn'ean the option to refuse him.

“ _Nar falon telsilen sul na, Sulahn'ean._ ” He had heard Fen'Harel say. “ _Ar shor vegara myl, vis ra air nar nuven'in_.”

**_Your friend worries for you, Songbird – I will return soon, if that is your wish_ **

“ _Ra air._ ” He'd heard her say, and then Fen'Harel was gone.

**_It is._ **

Sulahn'ean had then called to Abelas. She explained the mark to him, where she was from, _when_ she was from. He had thought them just stories before, but as she explained these things, he realized the truth of her words. He tried to wrap his mind around it all. That mark made her Esem or Fen'Harel, both protecting her and placing her in dangers greater than she could ever know.

 

“You want me to do what now?” She asked, looking to Abelas, pulling him from his thoughts. She was angry, and in her anger, she had reverted to speaking in Trade again. He was the only one well versed in it enough to translate her rage.

“They want you to move into the palace, _Sulahn'ean_. The request was made by _Elgar'nan.”_ Abelas replied, gently. “Honestly, I don't think he wants to apologize. It's more likely that he's giving his son a chance to overcome his humiliation.”

“So…if I go…I get to humiliate him again?” Sulahn'ean asked, looking strangely hopeful. Abelas sighed inwardly at this. The strange habits this woman had, it is no wonder she caught the eye of Fen'Harel. “Alright. I can get behind that. ( _Abelas sighs in relief_ ) But I need my things, and I do mean all of them…( _Abelas looks at her like she's crazy_ ) What? You expect me to go in there without any weapons? Fuck that.”

She crossed her arms in defiance, and Abelas turned to explain her conditions to the men who were there to get her. He did not say the word weapons, not at all. He said, personal items of deep importance to her family. He may have also thrown in how anything that made her happy would make Fen'Harel happy. Sulahn'ean just arched an eyebrow at him, and the men looked extremely uncomfortable, but in the end they relented.

“I doubt that I will ever see you again, _Sulahn'ean_.” Abelas said, in parting, giving her a quick hug. “Good luck with your fishing…and the humiliation of the spoiled child.”

“You're only so open because they can't understand you, but thank you.” Sulahn'ean replied, with a smirk. “I'm going to need all the luck I can get.”

-

“ _Na ter_ ** _AHN?!_ ”** Fen'Harel shouted, livid, after Elgar'nan revealed the news to him.

**_You did_ WHAT?!**

Books rattled on the shelves, shaking with the weight of his magic in the room. From the look on Elgar'nan's face, this is exactly the reaction he'd been looking for. There was no being subtle about this. He had warned the others away from Sulahn'ean, but there was nothing he knew of that would persuade Elgar'nan to do the same, not when there was revenge to be had for his son. Fen'Harel fought down his anger, damning himself for thinking he'd had more time.

He knew damned good and well that Elgar'nan was not doing this to teach his son a lesson. He was doing this to give the foul little cretin a chance at his own revenge. At the fighters arena she had some semblance of protection. Here, there would be none. She could defend herself well, he knew, but it didn't seem like she understood the level of danger she was in.

That she was a new Evanuris might save her from the others for a time. It would make her a curiosity at the least, a play thing at the worst. It would not save her from Falon'Din or Elgar'nan. Mythal had not been safe from any of them, even as powerful as she had been, not even from her own husband. Elgar'nan just smiled politely at him as if this were the most natural course to take.

“ _Ir tena na ei enaste, ma falon. Min vir, na telem ema vira dur sai si eisaelae hartha ash sulena._ ” Elgar'nan said, still smiling.

**_I'm doing you a favour, my friend. This way, you won't have to go down to the arena to hear her sing._ **

Fen'Harel didn't believe it for a second, but he couldn't say anything about it. So much of his plan revolved around remaining friendly with them all. This woman, this Sulahn'ean, had come at a most inopportune moment. So he smiled, hating himself even as he did that much, and nodded to the man. An idea came to him though, the only protection he felt he could give her.

“ _Ar'te'las ra telin eman ei kedi mir ash._ ” Fen'Harel replied, pleasantly smilng, as he left. “ _As shaes ara'vianvallas tas_.”

**_I do hope that no one holds a grudge towards her – She wears my mark as well._ **

-

When Elgar'nan's men began to take her to the palace, they did not speak to her. They were heading to a part of the arena she had never been to before. She didn't see a palace anywhere near them. How were they even suppose to get there from here? When they rounded a corner, she saw the el'u'vi'an and understood, but could not make her feet follow.

“ _Min air thu ar'an shira_.” One of them explained, when they saw her trepidation. “ _Si Valali air ove amahn._ ”

**_This is how we travel – The palace is through here._ **

“ _Air min si sasha vir?_ ” She asked, nervously. “ _Ar ema'tel ema on aezaesolaer i'esh'ala._ ”

**_Is this the only way – I haven't had good experiences with them._ **

“ _Vin._ ” The man stated, and motioned her forward.

**_Yes_ **

She doesn't want to go through, but she does, and when she does…She's never seen anything like it. There is a long stone bridge that looks like it goes on for miles, but just beyond that is the palace. Archways upon archways, all trying to reach the sky. Mosaics on ever bit of stone, telling stories she doesn't know. When the sun hits them just right, they glow, and it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

-

Her mother would be laughing if only she knew what they had her doing here. They had set her up in the kitchens, cooking and washing dishes, two things she hated doing above all else. It was easier to treat it like a mission, and soon many of the servants there could understand a little Trade as well. They seemed less enthused by her antics, but amused nonetheless. She kept the name of Sulahn'ean, singing Fereldan songs in Trade and Elven on occasion.

When they found out she could make something for the dry hands they always got from washing dishes, their approval of her went up. There was no one there yet like Abelas that she could really talk to, not yet. Falon'Din had made several appearances, but he could never seem to pin her down to a single location. Those markings she wore were good for helping her slip through walls, and for once in her life she is thankful that there was Tevinter blood magic. The first time the servants saw her do that, their eyes almost jumped out of their skulls.

The one thing she could make well were cookies with vanilla bean and rose petals, something her and her mother bonded over. Sylaise had requested something sweet, and put the challenge to her for something she had never had before. After asking around, she discovered that the woman had not had that particular sweet, and got to work. The ovens were a bit more intricate than what she was use to dealing with, but after being there for that long, she had a better handle on it. As she went to change into her serving outfit, she thought about the first time she'd seen the thing.

No one else had an outfit that skimpy, like they were trying to single her out specifically. When she noticed that, she took things into her own hands. Maker bless Isabella for teaching her out to make a corset. If they wanted her to be skimpy, then by the Maker she'd take to it with a vengeance. She had a few of the outfits, so they'd not seen the alterations she'd made to one of them.

She couldn't help but laugh when she saw the servants reaction to her outfit. They had wondered about why hers had been so skimpy in the first place, but upon hearing that it had been requested by one of the _'gods'_ they no longer questioned it. So when she walked into the kitchens wearing the new and reduced version, mouths fell open in shock. A few of the older ones shook their heads, knowing that she had a mean streak in her a mile wide. This would be interesting, to say the least.

-

His plan to avoid her works better than he expects, and when he finds out why he's furious. They do not plan to recognize her as an Evanuris, despite knowing that that's exactly what she is. They give her a room in the palace, which he pretends not to know the way to, but make her a servant in the kitchens. He spends more time near there than he should, but makes sure that she can't see him. He can't protect her if she sees him.

He has caught Falon'Din stalking her on more than one occasion, and sends the boy on his way. He has also watched as Sulahn'ean slips through the walls as if they weren't even there. She is ethereal, glowing with lyrium. He slips away before she can notice he's there, but the longer he is away, the more he wishes he wasn't. Though he knows she is powerful, a part of him does not want to know if she can take on the others, not after what happened to Mythal.

When she walked into the dining hall, his breath catches in his throat. He had seen the outfit Elgar'nan had wanted her to wear, how much more it showed than what the other servants wore. It gauled him that they still refused to see her as Evanuris, but he couldn't react that way, even though he did advocate for her to be recognized as an equal to them. She didn't seem to mind, taking things with a patience that he was surprised she possessed. However, when something got under her skin, it seemed that even Elgar'nan could not predict the results of her vengeance.

The outfit she wore now brings to focus every curve she possessed. What was that thing she wore around her waist? Whatever it was pushed up her breasts nicely, which he was trying very hard not to stare at, and accentuated her hips…which he was also trying very hard not to stare at. The design on it seemed to mimic the lines on her body, giving him the illusion that she wasn't wearing anything at all really. He swallowed a groan when he noticed the sides of her breasts just barely visible as she moved.

She never wore shoes, none of the servants did, but none of them had her legs either. She had split the sides of the bottom of the already short garment, and now only a crisscrossing ribbon on either side kept it in place. He frowned as he realized just how high those slits went…Did that mean…that she…Was she not…was she not wearing undergarments?! From the secretive smirk she wore, he knew that she knew where his mind had gone, but that did nothing to answer his silent question.

He barely tasted the cookies she and several of the other servants had brought out. His mind completely absorbed by how little she was wearing. The others noticed, but she paid them no mind. He frowned more, wondering why she wasn't bothered by them, but he came to the realization it was because they didn't really _see_ her. They didn't see the playful glint in her eyes, the secretive smirk on her lips, how her hair seemed to be as lusciously wild as she was.

He could swear she was hunting him now, in clear view of everyone around them, and they saw **_nothing._** She talked to everyone, touched everyone as if to reassure them, but only the touches on him seemed to linger. He was convinced now that she would be the death of him. His mind had been so lost in thought, that he did not notice how Falon'Din was acting. The boy had made some rude comment about her fighting skills or something, and he only caught her response.

“ _Na ane e'aistedael da'len, eil vis na'tel'enathe siljosal, ar'shor ema sai tirdana'na sum ara'gluin, Ishalen._ ” She said, piercing the young man with her gaze, threatening and suggestive all at once.

**_You are an impudent child, and if you don't start behaving, I'll have to bend you over my knee, Boy._ **

Fen'Harel begins to wonder just how long it has been since that boy has had a spanking in any sense of the word, and can't help coughing when he's realized where his thoughts have gone. The others have stopped eating to watch this play out. **_This_** is why they wanted her here, Fen'Harel knew, not to recognize her power as an evanuris, but to see what would happen when Falon'Din couldn't take it any more. This is what he was afraid of, the thing he could not protect her from. He knew the moment he saw her that she would not back down…even when she should.

-

Present day…

 

Solas had taken last watch, so no one was surprised to see him sketching away when they began waking up the next morning. He spoke with them, but his sketches always preoccupied him when he was determined about them. Fenris was the first one to really get a look at it, and he nearly died choking on his coffee. Hawke was wearing almost less than Isabella, looking like she was prowling. Is **_this_** what Fen'Harel had her wearing?

“You will explain that outfit, right now.” Fenris demanded. “She looks like she's one thread away from wearing **_nothing_ _._ ”**

“Rivaini would be impressed.” Varric said, with a smirk, looking at the sketch too.

“That is quite the outfit. Maybe when we get her back, I can talk to her about updating my wardrobe.” Dorian remarked, looking at the sketch now.

“Indeed, that corset does amazing things for her already wonderful figure.” Zevran commented. “You look like you're in great pain in this picture, my friend. Why did you try to deny yourself such a beautiful woman?”

“I refuse to answer you, _Felasil_.” Solas retorted, returning to his sketch.

“Not answering me is still an answer, my fine elven friend. No need to be so insulting.” Zevran replied, with his usual smile. “What did you call me just now anyway?”

“I called you an idiot.” Solas replied, without looking up at him. “It is better than what I called you before.”

“I imagine.” Zevran replied, grinning even wider now. “You looked like you would have killed me if given the chance.”

“The thought had crossed my mind, Assassin.” Solas stated, not even looking up from his sketch.

“You still have not explained the outfit.” Fenris stated, bringing them back to the matter at hand.

“It seems that _Elgar'nan_ had found out that I was visiting the fighting arena where she was so that I could hear her sing, and had her brought into the palace. His son is the one she humiliated, so I imagine this had to be a way to give _Falon'Din_ his chance at revenge.” Solas explained, still sketching. “She worked in the kitchens at the time, and they gave her the skimpiest thing they had for a serving girl to wear…This is her revenge, I think. She took one of the outfits, and made it into…well…into… _this_.”

“Remember when she depantsed you in DiamondBack?” Varric asked, still sipping on his coffee.

“I'm still trying to forget that, Master Tethras.” Solas admitted.

“Well, this is like that.” Varric replied. “As the saying goes, she's got a bee in her bonnet. With Flint, revenge is…”

“An art form.” Zevran replied.

“The things she did to Danarius before we killed him…The humiliation alone should have killed the man.” Fenris said, thinking back on it. “Hawke is not one I want angry at me, ever.”

“Is she…is she not wearing any smalls?” Dorian asked, surprising everyone. Then he started laughing. “Solas, I believe this is more than revenge. She is **_hunting_** you, in clear view of everyone, and from the looks of it, no one seems to realize what she's doing…except maybe you. No wonder you look like you're in pain.”

 


	15. Past and Present; Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bored Hawke is a dangerous Hawke, and when she goes exploring, she finds comfort in a familiar place, something that reminds her of him. There is where she stays during her down time, and the two start a painting as a conversation, but with Fen'Harel every step forward is a step back, and she is angry. What does an angry Hawke do, but lash out at the first thing that angers her, and then Fen'Harel on top of it. No one likes being ignored and used. Her reaction opens his eyes to his idiocy, but what can he do when she shuts herself off from him?

There's a kind of lemon in this chapter, sort of. So heads up.

* * *

Chapter 15

_**Back in ancient arlathan…** _

There were days when she would wander the palace alone. Days like that were ones she lived for. Even inside there were beautiful mosaics all over the place. Floating fire in small clear orbs hung about the rooms, lighting everything. She had been following a particular scent for the last few minutes, not noticing that she didn't see any servants in this wing.

She found what she was looking for, and smiled the moment she saw it. This was his study, his art studio. This is where he would hide from everyone else, and work on his art to his hearts' content. The smell of it reminded her of the rotunda. So it was here that she began to spend her free time, when she had it that is.

* * *

It started out innocent enough. He had started a painting, and because he seemed to like punishing himself, he had made her the subject matter. He had known the moment she'd entered his study, and it was comforting to see how the room changed every time she was there. A book would be on the desk, a blanket would be rumpled in the reading nook, each a small touch of her. One day though, things were much different.

She had taken interest in his painting, added to it while he was gone. It had the beginnings of his own face as well. He started working on it only on the days after she had. It became their conversation, since he was avoiding her, and she was not pushing him. Now, he stared at the painting they had created, unsure of what to make of it.

Instead of it being a portrait, as he had intended, it showed the two of them dancing in a ballroom. They had eyes for no one else, though there were hints of others dancing in the background. Everything had a slightly greenish or golden hue. It was beautiful, everything he wanted and nothing he could allow himself to have. What had he gotten himself into with this girl?

* * *

She had come by that afternoon to see if he had done anything to the painting, only to find it gone. The paints had been put away, and everything had been cleaned. She wasn't able to get into the desk drawers. If this wasn't a sign, she didn't know what was. He'd complete shut her out  ** _again_ ,** and not even the books could comfort her.

That was how she found herself out in the court yard. The area was already being overtaken by the nature around them, but even so the stone floor was still visible. Something had to give, and she was tired of always being the one doing the giving. He just looked so sad, and walled off, that she wanted to help him. She thought they had been getting closer, but she had to remind herself that she couldn't help someone who didn't want to be helped, and this was not yet her Solas.

" _Ar'tel'tasi ra Fen'Harel ema isa inan sul'na._ " She heard, and recognized the voice as Falon'Din, her stomach dropping uncomfortably at the sound of it. " _Na cestoloraer em, laisma_."

**_I do not care that Fen'Harel has his eyes on you – You humiliated me, slave/lost one_ **

She turned around to face him, that signature cocky grin of hers in place, and decided to keep her bluff going. " _Ar tyr eilar te'ra sal vis na nuva_."

**_I could always do it again if you like_ **

" _Is air tel amahn ra halani na min_." Falon'Din retorted, throwing a simple staff to her.

**_He is not here to help you now_ **

" _Ishalen, Ar te dirasha'nar'masa, I'sa'da'lav ve ara'veth, shorol dixie._ " She said, when she caught the staff. " _Te'na vaelia sila ar nuva ish min sul'ra?_ "

**_Boy, I can kick your ass, with one hand behind my back, whistling dixie – Do you really think I need him here for that?_ **

" _Ahn?_ " He looked confused, and it was only then that she realized he wouldn't know what that song was anyway.

**_What?_ **

She just couldn't seem to help herself. Annoying the shit out of this twirp was just too much fun, and right now she needed the distraction to work of some of this anger. So she puts one hand behind her back, and begins to whistle the tune,twirling the staff as she does so. This has the desired results, and he charges at her in anger. Though she does hit him with the staff, she makes it a point to 'kick his ass' literally. This infuriated him, and he would try to hit her again. She knew damn well that he was using magic to move around that fast, but she was determined to kick his ass the 'old fashioned' way, as it were.

* * *

He'd spelled the painting away, to a time when what he saw could be true, convinced it was something he could not have. After that, he'd walked around the grounds, feeling restless. He recognized her feelings of disappointment, and marveled at how she could shift from disappointment to frustration to anger so quickly. The last one bothered him, resolve, but what had she resolved to do? The walk along the worn dirt path near his study did not provide him the comfort it usually did, not this time.

" _Te na'eolasa mahn nar Sulahn'ean air_?" Andruil asked, sounding strangely concerned, when he got back to the shimmering dining hall.

**_Do you know where your Songbird is?_ **

" _Din. Ahnsul?_ " Fen'Harel replied, not liking how this sat with him. Andruil was rarely worried, and never about things that involved him.

**_No. Why?_ **

" _Na myr dirthala_." She warned, before walking on quickly…like she was headed somewhere specific.

**_You should find out/learn_ **

* * *

That is how he found Sulahn'ean, twirling about quickly with her hand behind her back…whistling a tune as she fought with Falon'Din. Just what had the fool said now? A few of the others were there, lazily watching the fight, so he doubted that his Sulahn'ean was in any real danger, but Falon'Din was a sore loser if there ever was one. This would not be forgotten, and yet he could not find it in himself to be worried about it. He too was content to watch the fight.

There was something about the way she moved. She was graceful, wasted no energy on flashy moves…save the whistling and her hand behind her back. He had underestimated her before, that much was clear. However, he noticed a reoccuring theme within this fight. Every chance she got, she quite literally 'kicked' Falon'Din's ass.

" _Ar ema sai av'ahn…_ " Fen'Harel said, intrigued, his voice trailing off as he rested against the wall.

**_I have to ask…_ **

" _Ahn as'air dirashal ish in si masa la ra?_ " Sylaise asked, with faint amusement. Fen'Harel nodded. " _Ar ema din rahn, y'ra'n samahlas._ "

**_Why she's kicking him in the ass like that? - I have no idea, but it's funny._ **

" _Ra'air aelyl._ " Elgar'nan said, stopping everything as his voice rang out over the area. " _Dian min falasilor mala._ "

**_That's enough – Stop this nonsense now._ **

" _Ahnsul? Mai nar ishalen te shala sal'in?_ " She growled angrily, as she turned to the man, her hair alive and wild with the magic she held.

**_Why? So your son can save face?_ **

" _Tamahn sai din thanun ra cestolora ish var'el, Sulahn'ean._ " Fen'Harel said, gently, sure that he could calm her down.

**_There is no reason to humiliate him further, Songbird._ **

" _Telin av'ahnen na!_ " She shouted, angrily, whirling around to face him. _"Na ema'tel dirthem ra em samelana moli Ar garem amahn, eil…_ " He was shocked when she started berating him in front of the others, but he was more surprised that she stalked towards him, whispering a part for his ears alone. " _Na tu telem eidor sai nar'lin ra na'lath'em._ "

**_No one asked you! - You haven't talked to me once since I got here, and…– you still won't admit to yourself that you love me._ **

Fen'Harel stood there speechless, eyes wide, as she turned around and walked away from him and further into the courtyard, tossing the staff aside in anger as she did so. Seeing as the entertainment was gone, the others soon took their leave as well. Only Fen'Harel and June remained. Despite everything, June was one of the ones he had liked before the mess with Mythal. So it surprised him when June walked up to him, and smacked him up the back of his head.

" _Ar eolasa ra Elgar'nan valaer ash amahn nua na, y'ra air din thanun ra aindrysi si asha._ " The normally jovial man snapped.

**_I understand that Elgar'nan put her here to taunt you, but that is no reason to ignore the woman._ **

" _Ra air si sasha vir ama ash._ " Fen'Harel argued, stubbornly.

**_It is the only way to protect her_ **

" _Melahn ema aindrysol sa'lin na latha'sul aelaes amem ash'ala?_ " June sneered, knowing he'd hit a nerve, before he walked away.

**_When has ignoring someone you cared about ever protected them?_ **

* * *

" _Sulahn'ean,_  wait!" He called after her.

Man alive, but that woman could run! She was beyond the outer edges of the courtyard before he caught up with her again. This was the area that was more nature, less stone, as the plants around them slowly took back the land. This area was not as cared for as it was not close to the palace. He reached out and was able to grasp her fingers, before she whirled around to face him, jerking her hand out of his grasp.

" _Ahn? Mala na'nuva sai'dirtha sai'em?_ " She growled, angrily. " _Na'ane sav'el elvar eil sal'in'soun mala o'na aelaes shaesi!_ "

**_What? Now you want to talk to me? – You're even more difficult and stubborn now than you ever were!_ **

" _Mai tamahn'air'las sul'em melahn'an?_ " He teased, unable to stop himself. There was something captivating about how angry she was, but he realized just as quickly that it was a mistake to tease her when she was this angry.

**_So there is hope for me then?_ **

" _Tel'garahnen arian eisyl_ ** _na,_** _na'eolasa. Na tel telir vera'ahn'na'nuva, eil iselena sul'em sai bell'ana ea min._ " She snarled at him, and he froze in both wonder and shock. " _Ir_ ** _tel_** _nar vani'fan, eil na ane tel ei_ ** _venuralas._ "**

**_Not everything revolves around_ you, _you know. You can not simply take what you want, and expect for me to always be here – I am_ not _your plaything, and you are not a_ god.**

" _Sulahn'ean, melana! Sathan!_ " He said, trying to calm her down, now beginning to understand just how badly he'd let things get, gently grasping her fingers as she turned to head back towards the palace.

**_Songbird, wait! Please!_ **

She just leveled a glare at him, and left him with words he knew would haunt him forever.

* * *

" _Ir tel nar Sulahn'ean, eil tamahn air din'el thanun sai sulena._ "

**_I am not your Songbird, and there is no more reason to sing._ **

Those words haunted him wherever he went now, the last words she'd spoken to him…yelled at him, when he went to find her after the fight with Falon'Din. It wasn't her voice that haunted him now. It was the sheer  ** _lack_**  of it. She no longer sang, no longer spoke to anyone, and went about her daily routine with no life; She didn't even go to his study anymore. He had used her in a way, to heal the parts of himself he had not realized were broken, but he had not given anything back in return. No wonder she was angry at him.

She went about her day silently, not bothering to even glance at him as she went. That was another thing he had noticed. He was beginning to see her less and less, as if she were working in another area, and he knew it would serve him right if she never spoke to him again. Restlessness took hold of him one night, weeks after she had refused to talk to him, or see him when he went in search of her, and he began to wander in search of something he couldn't name. It went on like this for days.

The people he passed offered a kind smile, as if they knew of his troubles, but they would not speak to him in any other tone but that of demurring. Even those he helped to get away before, did not treat him the way she had, and so he continued to wander the streets in the evenings. The streets were truly beautiful, pristine, a true testament to the craftsmanship of the elvhen, and yet he saw only emptiness wherever he looked. Words that she had said before, came back to haunt him now. Arlathan would fall, because all his brethren cared about was decadence and power; Their people meant little to them, and yet the Evanuris demanded to be worshiped.

A sound caught his attention, one he had not heard in what felt like ages, and he followed it to its source. He lost it a few times, the sound echoing against a building, making him lose his way. The next day he returned to the same spot, and the next, and the next, hoping to hear the sound again, wondering why it held such fascination for him. It made his heart beat faster to hear it again, and it didn't dawn on him until he was nearly upon it why he was searching for it so fervently. It was the one sound he had missed above all others.

Her  _ **voice,**  at_  ** _last_ _,_**  he'd heard her voice. In a wooden tavern, not far from the palace, he found her. This was not the type of place he had expected to find her in. She deserved to be praised, treated like a goddess, and yet he could see how at home she was among the people. In this dark hole in the wall of a tavern, she had probably learned more about the people here than he ever had in the walls of the palace.

She was sitting at a long table playing cards, looking for all the world as if she were comfortable there, joking and telling stories. Here, her tattoos looked like a rogue's decoration as opposed to the lyrium he knew them to be. He looked down at his own clothing, regal as they were, tailored and well made, and knew he would stand out like a sore thumb in such an establishment. Yet she could look as if she belonged no matter where she was, regal in one moment, simplistic the next. He was brought out of his musings by the woman who was the subject of them.

" _Na'vhen telir nuven em sai'sulena mai Ar telem ema ei dys sai'enas ara tyli veth!_ " She scoffs, playfully.

**_You lot only want me to sing so I won't have a chance to win my money back!_ **

A familiar tune began to play (Pirates of the Baltic-celestial aeon), and she laughed. " _Ar'tel'nuva sulena. Ar nuva alas'nira!_ "

**_I don't want to sing. I want to dance!_ **

Well, he was not going to be one to waste the opportunity, walked in, took her hand, and made his way to an open floor space. Many of the patrons were surprised to see him, shocked out of their conversations to stare at him, but it wasn't their attention he wanted. Now, his main focus was her. She was too surprised now to stop him, and he used that to his advantage. They were out in what he assumed was the dance floor, before she even tried to say anything.

"Wha-" She tried to say, surprised.

" _Na dirthem na nuvenem sai alas'nira, Ara'Sulahn'ean._ " He stated, with a grin, and set up the dance. " _Ehn eis Ar sai banalasa mes ei nuven'in?_ "

**_You said you wanted to dance, my Songbird – Who am I to deny such a request?_ **

She laughed and grinned at him, and just like that they were hunting each other again. He hadn't danced like this since before the first war, and it felt wonderful to do so again. She was graceful, and even if she didn't know the steps, she didn't let it slow her down. She invented new steps, and he moved to them as if they had always been a part of the dance. When the song was over, he pulled her in for a kiss, wrapping one of his arms around her, putting everything he didn't know how to say into it, while ignoring the calls and whistles from those she had been playing cards with.

" _Son melahn'an._ " She said, a bit breathless, when he pulled away. " _Tel'telam la'var'la eidylyndror vira._ "

**_Well then – Not bad as far as apologies go._ **

" _Shyr na la em sai tua ei tael esay eis ra?_ " He teased, without missing a beat. He had missed her.

**_Would you like me to make a second attempt at it?_ **

" _Ar shyr'tel ea harillen sai si'rahn_." She replied, giving him that fanged grin that made him feel like he was the one being hunted.

**_I woundn't be opposed to the idea_ **

" _Son melahn'an._ " He replied, using her words, before leaning in for a much longer kiss. " _Ar eolasa eilyr banal eirdyr na, Sulahn'ean, eil taht Ar ema mi'nas'sal'in ra moli. Ar ema mi'nas'sal'in_ ** _ _na.__ _"_**

**_Well then – I know almost nothing about you, Songbird, and yet I have missed that smile. I have missed_ you.**

* * *

Present day…

It was the eighth day for him dealing with the memories coming back when things took a turn for the worst. He had begun to remember the time when she had stopped singing, when she had all but disappeared from his life, and it physically  ** _hurt_**  him. He had been absolutely miserable, and had not been much in the way of conversation. The last day or so, Varric would look to him in silent question if anything had changed. Solas would shake his head no, and they would continue on.

This particular morning when Varric looked at him, the dwarf just started laughing. Apparently it showed in his demeanor that things were better now. In all truth, he felt better now too. Those memories had been awful to relive again, acting like a vise grip on his lungs, making it hard for him to breathe. It appeared, he thought wryly, that he was just as foolish now about how to protect the people he cared for as he had been then.

He wondered just how many memories there were that he had made himself forget. Their travels had taken them the long way around, through the no man's land between territories, hoping to avoid slavers, magisters, and Vael's men alike, slow going through thick forests. Fenris seemed ready to attack with a vengeance, and that was not what they needed at the moment. They certainly were not a normal traveling party. One pretentious tevinter, three elves; two of which did not carry themselves the way a slave would, and one that would kill them before they had a chance to look at him; and a dwarf that was constantly writing things and looked like he gave zero fucks about a tevinter's supposed superiority.

"Finally made up with her, I see." Zevran said, with a wink, as he sat down on one of the logs that they had positioned around the fire. "It is about time. I thought you would mope for years with that face."

"You do realize you're trying to give me advice on something that has  ** _already_**  happened?" Solas asked, more than a little annoyed by Zevran. He was trying really hard not to think of various ways to kill him, seeing as how he was Alhasha's friend…he'd already failed 42 times since waking up that morning.

"I really will have to congratulate her when we find her again." Zevran said, not fazed in the slightest. "She told me about the hot springs, but failed to mention just exactly who you were. It would be like our dear Champion to steal her first ever kiss from  _Fen'Harel._ "

At this, Fenris, Dorian, and Varric still instantly. Solas realizes in this moment, that this was something she had never told them, that she had only spoken to the girls ( _and Zevran for some odd reason_ ) about it. The mention and realization of this makes him blush, though for the life of him, he can't figure out  ** _why_ _._**  Dorian just chuckles a little and continues drinking his coffee, and after a moment Fenris just shakes his head and follows suit. It's Varric that is eyeing him with something that he would consider close to murder, if he didn't know the dwarf better.

"I'm going to have to rewrite  ** _everything_."**  Varric grounded out.  **" _Everything!_ "**

"That is what you get for having the story written in your head already, and waiting for me to 'fill in the blanks', master Tethras." Solas replied, much to the amusement of everyone else.

* * *

Back in ancient Arlathan…

After that moment in the tavern, he wasted no time in asking her every single question he could think of to get to know her. She was his Nas'Falon, he knew, and he was  ** _tired_**  of wasting time. She already knew a lot about him, he made the spell that way on purpose, and so he told her little things anyway. He'd already proven how stubborn he could be, and she'd needed the knowledge to know how to handle him or else he could have manipulated the situation without her knowledge. She had answered every question she felt she could, but there was a lot she wasn't telling him. There was a lot she wasn't sure she  ** _could_**  tell him.

He knew that she had met him in this future she spoke of, but that he seemed to have no memory of her. Though he had not asked, he knew this meant he'd placed a memory spell on himself at some point. From her stories, he knew that his plan would succeed but with a high cost…His people would have much taken from them, and that his first plans to fix that mistake would end in failure, but it would lead to his finding of her. He knew that he would need to forget a lot of what she told him, and hope that his memories could be restored.

They sat together in that place, talking and laughing with those she had played cards with. There was a certain kind of comfort, he realized, to the feel of wood grain under his fingertips. They had gotten into a conversation about strength versus magic, which lead to outer versus inner strength, which somehow lead to an arm wrestling contest. That was another thing he couldn't remember doing after the wars, and the two garnered quite a bit of attention with that, bets were being flung about wildly. He won, but it was a close thing, and he was left marveling at her strength even so.

Loser buys dinner of course, her rules, she'd said. So when she comes back with an assortment of meats and cheeses, he does not question it. As they eat, they get into another debate, this time about how best to wield magic. Though he does not need a staff to wield his magic, he finds it a kind of comfort, while she insists hand gestures and rune circles are what work best for her. He finds that he enjoys watching her wield magic, like a dance, she puts her whole body into it.

When the Tavern had closed for the night, the two walked back to the palace. Lost in each other, and the small kisses that they shared, they could have been seen by the entire pantheon and they would not have noticed. He was thankful when they finally made it to his room, and promptly pushed her up against the door once he'd closed it. She made a sound somewhere in between a surprised yelp and a pleasured moan, as he began trying to divest them of their clothes, while trying to kiss along her neck. He could get lost in the sounds she made, he realized, which is probably why he didn't notice something was wrong until she burst into tears before his eyes.

" _Sulahn'ean, ahn'air del?_ " He asked, alarmed now, stopping everything he was doing. " _Ahn garem?_ "

**_Songbird, what's wrong? - What happened?_ **

"Y-you wouldn't s-stop." She said, trying to calm her breathing. "I p-panicked."

"I'm sorry,  _Ar shor'tel emma gerem emem var…_ " He said, backing away just a little, surprising her.  ** _Etunash_ _!_**  Was his reputation really that bad in the future, or had she just not expected him to apologize and back off? He took a chance, and gently caressed her jawline, holding her head in his hands. " _Ar shar tas diana'i'isal. Na ane tuasha._ _Min_ _air tuasha. Ahn shyr na emma iar te? Garahnen air eis nar vali._ "

**_I shouldn't have gotten carried away…–I was too eager. You are new._ This _is new. What would you have us do? Everything is at your pace._**

" _Ar shyr'tel sil shael emem sul ei la'var, vis na tel'sil_." She replied, trying to sound sarcastic, but it only succeeded in pulling him to her pleading eyes more.

**_I wouldn't mind being held for a while, if you don't mind._ **

Without another word, he picked her up bridal style, and carried her to the bed. When he got them under the covers, he did just as she asked, and held her there. This was how he came to hear about Vael. She'd begun by telling him what had happened, and his future self's reaction to seeing her dream of it in the Fade. If he hadn't already felt like an ass before, he most certainly did now.

He'd not wanted to force her, thinking that she had been ready, and he was reminded even in this that he was more like the others than he had wanted to admit. They thought themselves gods, used to taking whatever they wanted, or having it offered to them without hesitation. He had thought himself above such things, and yet he had almost let that exact thinking ruin what he was trying to build with this woman. After that, he slowly drew her to him. Everything went at her pace, and he found that he enjoyed this slow exploration of her much more than the quick fix he usually looked for.

* * *

_**Lemon Warning...sort of** _

Time held no meaning, whole days could have ran together for all they knew, and the only thing they left the bed for was the necessary and food. They talked about everything, anything, and sometimes nothing at all. Eventually, they did end up shedding their clothing, but even then he did not try for more than that. Instead, a touch was a word, a caress a conversation. Her magic clung to him like he belonged to it, and he realized that this was the most relaxed he'd ever been. He learned that though she could call on the lyrium lines if she ever needed to, he was the only one they reacted to, lighting up when he would caress her skin.

"Is it…odd…to be jealous of one's self?" He asked, breaking the contented silence they'd been in. They'd been practicing his Trade more too.

"Why?" She asked, snuggling into him. "He was you once, and you will be him eventually."

"Yes, but…he has many firsts I do not with you. After all, in your eyes, it is he you met first." Fen'Harel replied, as he ran his fingers through her hair. He felt that was something else he was going to be rather addicted to, running his fingers through her hair, like ink flowing through his fingers. "He has the first kiss, the first to nibble along your neck…to hear those little sounds you make, even the first fight. I am…envious? Yes. Envious of him, this man I will eventually come to be."

"I don't know if you want to be envious of the first fight." She teased. "I break your nose."

"Do you really?" Fen'Harel asked, in wonderment, and a slow smile spread across his face when she nodded. "Why?"

That one question lead to many more, as she told the story of her Mabari hound. Fen'Harel did not care for hounds, but the story she told was fascinating, and it explained a few things. She told the story from the day her father gave her the hound, through the incident that lead to her mutilated ear, and he listened. She told him about their various adventures together, the trek to someplace called 'Kirkwall', and how the hound had been one of the most loyal companions she'd ever known. It was his own interactions with the hound that surprised him.

Could there really be a hound that approved of him? As a general rule, they tended to dislike him. Yet this one, the one that was loyal to his nas'falon judged him with favour. He loved how she was amused by their antics, how his future self had hidden from the creature to find peace, and how this 'BarkSpawn' had made sure that his future self could not ignore her. When she explained how the creature's death had forced him to face his feelings for her, he knew that he would owe this being a debt, one that apparently had been paid in that future of theirs by way of a small mabari pup that had bonded to them both. That in itself was a wonder to him, that he would be bonded with a Mabari.

After that, it was more exploration; more kisses, soft touches, gentle but firm caresses. He hated that she had been tortured with the lyrium lines, but loved that she clung to him more whenever he would run his tongue across one. Her hands ghosting over him as she got more comfortable with him, as if she were trying to learn every muscle, as if she wanted to sculpt him, was an amazing feeling. She was inexperienced, he knew, there was no way one could hide as she had for so long without such a cost. It showed in her hesitant touches, and yet they felt better than any other he had known.

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had done this, and it set his nerves on fire. Then again, she was a mage, and her impish grin was all he needed to confirm that she was intending to do this to him. He hadn't thought she would try such a thing yet, and hoped that it was a sign she was becoming more comfortable with him. Fen'Harel melted into her touch, and the pleasant warmth she was giving him with her magic. However, when she tentatively ran her fingers along the length of his shaft, his mind stopped working altogether.

His sharp intake of breath stopped her movements, and she jerked her hand away. " _Ir abelas, Ir abelas_.  _Ar myr'tel ema_ …"

**_I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…_ **

" _Ar shar onhara, Sulahn'ean, tel tel'nuvenem._ " He explained, holding her hands in his own, desperately wishing she would continue. " _Sathan…Esaya'em na nuvenin…Ra sildearem on, Lath'in._ "

**_I was surprised, Sulahn'ean, not unwanting – Please…Explore me as you wish…It felt good, love._ **

It's when he calls her lath'in that she relaxes enough to want to continue. It must be what he calls her later, but that's something she won't tell him. Her movements are hesitant at first, but with every reaction he gives, she becomes more sure. He hears moans and soft whispers begging ' _More, love, please. Just like that. Please, don't stop. I need you._ '. The voice is his own, and yet he can not recognize it, has never heard it like  ** _this_**  before.

This is usually the sound he hears from others, begging, wanton. If he knew for certain that a higher power than them existed, he'd pray to them now, thank them for allowing the spell to work to bring her here. As it is, all his mind can think is  _'my love_ '. His breath comes in deep gasps, his hips move of their own volition, and then suddenly the feeling is gone. He opens his eyes in confusion, only just now realizing he'd closed them.

" _Ahn-?…_ " He was going to ask what was wrong, if she needed to stop. It wasn't like he was a stranger to himself, as he was certain she would not appreciate him going to another. But the second she began tentatively kissing along his length, the words stuck in his throat, only to be replaced with new ones. " _Thes!_ "

**_What? - Fuck!_ **

He had not expected her to want to do  _this_  yet, but he wasn't about to stop her either. The things she did with her tongue, licking him around his head before taking him in, there was no way he was going to last long if she kept doing those things. It wasn't long before she had him back to begging. He knew it was about to happen, tried to stop her, to warn her away in case she didn't want to finish him off this way. She just pushed his hand away, and continued to suck and lick at him until he couldn't hold back anymore, and he came in her mouth.

She didn't seem to know what to do, and spit his semen into a nearby cup, coughing at the strange sensation that was now in her throat. Now she was embarrassed, and he isn't sure why. Had she not wanted to do that? Without a second thought, he sat up, and pulled her to into a kiss. She'd tried to back away, but he held her to him and deepened the kiss. He would  ** _not_**  have her feel embarrassed about anything regarding the two of them  _ever_  if he could help it.

"That was… _Lath'in, ra shar…Na ane on'ala, Lath'in._ " Fen'Harel stated, giving her small kisses in between words. " _Ar isalan…Ar isalan serannasa na…ahn na tuem em sildeara…Ela'Ar?_ "

**_Love, that was…You are amazing, Love. - I want…I want to show you…what you made me feel…May I?_ **

She seemed hesitant again, and he was about to tell her it was fine, when she nodded. He gently pushed her back to lying down on the bed, and began kissing down her body. Fuck, she was beautiful, he thought to himself. Every scar he came across had a story that was just as outlandish as she was, and the more pleasure he made her feel, the more the lyrium lines glowed. Every sound she made was like music to his ears.

" _Na ane…ina'lan'ehn…Lath'in._ " He said, as he kissed his way down her body. " _Mai…ir'ina'lan'ehn._ "

**_You are…beautiful…Love – So…very beautiful_ **

The first time he ran his tongue over her clit, she gasped. She was so very  ** _responsive_.** He had long ago stopped being able to understand her. He understood her language now, was able to speak it well enough, but when she spoke it so brokenly like this it was difficult to translate. Whatever she said, it sounded like begging for more, and  _that_  he understood.

As he worked her clit over with his tongue, sucking on it every so often, he began moving one of his fingers in and out of her. She was already wet for him, being turned on by her earlier actions, that she didn't take long to build up, and he slips in a second finger to go with the first. She's close, breathing heavily, gasping, begging for release, her hips moving a little in time with his fingers. He can feel her begin to tighten around his fingers, and reaches up with his other hand to lightly caress the shell of her ear. It is the last straw, overloading her senses, and sending her plummeting over the abyss with a silent scream, something he kept up until she relaxed from it. She looked down at him, caught by the sight of him sucking on his fingers, blushing like mad as she can't stop staring.

" _Na davathe on'ala, Lath'in_." He says, grinning wolfishly when he sees this, crawling back up to plunder another kiss.

**_You taste wonderful, love_ **

How long they remained that way, he didn't know, but they did spend a fair amount of time cuddling in bed without a stitch of clothing between them, exploring everything with touch. He loved the feel of her fingers on his skin, loved how responsive she was, how the lyrium lines lit up for him. How was he suppose to forget her, forget this? He would have to, he knew, but that didn't make it any better. He only hoped there was a way to regain his memories once he found her again, because he most certainly did not want to forget her.

_**Lemon Warning End** _

* * *

"If you could…get rid of these markings…would you?" Fen'Harel asked, running a hand over her hip.

"No. I know the magic they come from is vile, but they're a part of me now. They've helped shape who I am. They've saved my life a few times over too." She replied, after a long moment. "Maybe if it had been offered when it first happened, when I wasn't thinking, but not now. Besides…( _It was at this point that he nibbled on the shell of her ear, and the lyrium lines reacted to him again_ )…you tell me they taste delicious."

It was at this moment that an interruption, one of many that were usually planned by the others, presented itself, as a knock on the door. It was usually in the form of a serving girl, bringing drinks and snacks, and offering to take care of any 'needs' he may have. The first time this had happened had made her…his Sulahn'ean, a tearful mess, and Fen'Harel had kindly turned the serving girl away before storming into the dining hall to tell the others that he did not want any other  ** _gifts_**  they may think to send him, as he was planning to spend an uncertain amount of time away getting to know his nas'falon better. What made him feel worse about it was that she had  ** _expected_**  things to be more casual when it came to physical pleasures, had actually tried to tell him it was okay for him to take the gift offered to him even as she warred with herself. The look on her face, as it tore at her that he might give in because she wouldn't yet, did something to him.

" _Ar ema si paer'jul, Sulahn'ean, sul si alas'niral min'nydha._ " The girl said, through the door.

**_I have the dress, Songbird, for the dancing tonight._ **

Sulahn'ean suddenly shot out of bed at that, running around trying to throw on her clothes. He just chuckled to himself at that, as he casually put on his. With how wrapped up they had been in each other these last few days, it had been easy to lose track of time. The others had wanted to throw a party, something overly decadent, he was sure. On one hand, he cringed at how wasteful it all was, but on the other he looked forward to being able to dance with her in a ballroom setting.


	16. Past and Present; Part 4 The return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of her time in Arlathan keep hitting him as they travel, but it's the last one that really hits him; the true reason why the Dread Wolf exists. When they get her back, things do not stay peaceful, at least not for long. Then again, he did have to bring this lot with him. They may just die, if they aren't careful

**Chapter 16**

**Present day…**

He had never bothered to thank the Maker before, and he may never actually consider the possibility of him as a higher power, but he was seriously thinking about it now. The night before, he had wisely decided to set up his small tent. It had looked like rain, he told the others. So while he was inside the tent, he placed the noise cancellation spells just in case. He did not want to hear Varric ask him any more questions regarding what he said or sounded like in his sleep.

There was something to that kiss in the tavern, like it spoke of more. Sure enough, that night he dreamed of what happened after the kiss…all three wonderful days of it. Fuck, she was amazing, and she had made him reevaluate himself when he had tried to rush her. The things they had done after that, the way her hands ghosted over his skin, the way her magic clung to him like he belonged to it…She was glorious. How had he ever made himself forget her?

The next morning, no one asked why he shook as he held the coffee he'd taken to drinking on this trip. He was still trying to shake the memories of those three days out of his mind for the day, but it was easier thought than done. They were  _good_  together, and it made him smile a bit when he remembered that even then he had called her his Lath'in. Just as he thought he was in the clear for the morning, he picked up on Varric telling stories of Kirkwall to Dorian. He'd said something about sweeping, which made him frown, though he couldn't place why yet.

* * *

"Ah, that's right. According to Chuckles, we don't call it sweeping anymore. We call it interrogating." Varric announced.

" _Telsilal masa durgen'len_." Solas muttered, still sipping on his coffee.

"Ah, come on now, Chuckles. Don't be like that." Varric playfully whined.

"Interrogating? Does it involve hand cuffs then?" Zevran asked, grinning as he usually did, looking over to Solas. "I did not realize you had it in you, my fine elven friend. You must be one of  _those_."

"One…of… _those_." Solas repeated, with a tired sigh.

"Yes, yes. One of those pent up quiet types, buttoned up till you get them alone, then they're all rough hands and bite marks." Zevran replied, as if this were commonplace.

"That's what I said too." Dorian added, with a smirk.

"Can we  _please_  not talk about Hawke like this?" Fenris asked, as close to whining as he dared to get.

"We weren't." Zevran replied, a little too innocently.

"You were about to." Solas remarked, with annoyance.

"You can hardly blame us. She is a fascinating creature." Dorian commented.

"So, what kind of ' _interrogating_ ' did you two do together last night?" Varric asked, looking to Solas.

"Any answer I give you will be twisted into something for your novels, Child of the Stone." Solas replied, keeping his cold demeanor. "She is  _more_  than that, and you should respect her as such."

"Ah. So that will be the 'lying naked and sharing secrets as they explore each other's bodies' category then." Varric replied, without missing a beat, not even looking up at him as he began writing notes in his book. "Don't worry about the details, Chuckles, I can fudge those."

He was not prepared for the cup of coffee that got hurled in his direction, as Solas stormed off. Of all the things for the reclusive elf to have a short fuse on, teasing had never really been on the list before Flint got there. Varric would know, considering he'd grilled that elf on everything he could think of just to see what made him tick. It seemed that now that his secrets were starting to come out, Solas had a much shorter fuse, and any teasing regarding Flint was seen as off limits to the normally reserved elf. In his way, Solas was protecting what he viewed as his, and Flint was just as much his as he was hers, even if he hadn't managed to actually say the words 'I love you' yet.

Varric assumed lath'in meant something along those lines, but he also knew that it was important to a person who valued commitment the way Flint did to hear those three words no matter what language they were in. In a way, Solas's reactions reminded him of when Broody first started laying claim to things in an effort to take his freedom. It was when their emotions came into play that they were different. Fenris tended to be generally cranky about everything, while Solas was cool and reserved…unless he was with Flint. The rest of the group just glared at Varric, which he found disconcerting, and he looked at them cluelessly.

"What'd I say?" The dwarf asked, feigning confusion.

* * *

 **_Telsilal masa durgen'len_ ** **–** **_**Annoying ass dwarf.** _ **

* * *

**Back in ancient Arlathan…**

She was at that moment, where she felt like everything was drawing to a close again, at another abyss. Somehow, she would be able to return to her time soon, she could feel it. There were a lot of things about this time, this place, that she was going to miss. The indoor plumbing that she grew up with didn't even touch the wonderfulness that this was. Baths would never be the same again, not after this.

These people were crazy, but they knew luxury. For someone who had never really had it before, this was heaven. She had been working on a dress design with some of the seamstresses she'd gotten to know. They had helped her with her last project, and had loved the idea of a fairy tale gown for the dance. What they had come up with was amazing.

They would do this for her because she asked, and because they loved her. The dress they had designed was a deep warm red, but had other colours ranging from one end of a flame to another, whether it was in the line-work, or the crystal beading. They knew her name was Hawke, but they would make sure that she was a phoenix for the night. They had adopted this corset thing of hers into the design, especially after hearing Fen'Harel's reaction to it, and something called a sweat-heart neckline. What surprised them was when she asked for sleeves instead of the cape that was traditional for one of her unofficial standing.

Once she explained the elegance of the sleeves design, they were on board, and it freed up a lot of fabric to focus on the bottom of her dress. Beautiful intricate lines wove themselves in and out of view throughout the dress. It did not have a train flowing behind it, Hawke had seen no need for such a thing. They made it so that it covered everything, but that when she would walk, you would see a bit of her leg peeking through the long slits of fabric. When she saw it, she loved it, and hugged the seamstresses once each.

She went to put on the dress, and couldn't believe her eyes. Already she looked like a different person. She'd need someone to fix her hair though. Now that the bracelet was gone, her wild hair had taken on a mind of its own, thick and full bodied even though it was down to her waistline now. She imagined this was some form of petty revenge for all those years she'd suppressed its growth.

The ladies insisted on doing a bit of makeup for her, though Hawke felt that this was a bit much after the dress and hair. The way these women worked, she didn't have time to tell them no. Same thing went for jewelry too, though thankfully they did go light on that and the makeup. She wanted this night to be special. It felt as if it here the last one she would have here.

* * *

The others had been unusually keyed up, but Fen'Harel played it off as party planning 'jitters' they liked to think they had. Something still felt wrong though. It was in the wind, it almost felt like it was tangible. Sulahn'ean had been gone after the servant girl told her about the dress, another one of her 'creations' he imagined. That last one had been a sweet torment.

He wondered what this one would look like. The others were no stranger to an abundance of nudity, but he realized that he didn't want to share her with anyone else. He felt strangely possessive of her. He couldn't attribute it to the mark. It did what it was suppose to do, it brought her to him, showing him that she had all the crazy qualities he'd listed and the true ones he'd secretly wished for. It did not create feelings.

Many of the 'noblemen' had arrived already, and Fen'Harel was already in the process of mingling to get it over with. A remark made by one of them had him turning around to see what they spoke of, only for him to come face to face with the most beautiful sight he'd ever witnessed. Sulahn'ean slowly glided down the stairs in a style of dress that none had really seen before. She looked for all the world like a phoenix, like living flame, catching the light in the jewels on her gown and her hair as she walked. He forgot about the nobleman he'd been talking to, in favor of walking towards the woman that had captured his attention.

" _Na ane ina'lan'ehn, Lath'in._ " He said, as he got to her.

**_**You are beautiful, love.** _ **

" _Enaste_." She replied back, a bit out of sorts. " _Saeri alas'niran…Ar'tel…Ir'tel…Ar'tel'shaelyl._ "

**_**Thank you – These dances…I don't…I'm not…I do not belong** _ **

" _Vis si alina Evanuris brithem sai na, Sulahn'ean, es'an nere eolasa ahn ra sulevan sai ea bel'raj_." Fen'Harel insisted, guiding her out onto the floor.

**_**If the other Evanuris looked to you, Sulahn'ean, they might understand what it means to be royal/leader of many** _ **

"Flirt." She mumbled, as he chuckled at that and lead her out onto the dance floor.

This is where he wanted to be, here with her just like this, dancing with her in his arms. Others had noticed her arrival, how quickly his attention fled from them to her, and many stopped to watch them dance. She claimed to not belong to such a crowd, and yet she could charm them. One does not need to belong to the crowd to do that, he knew. Sometimes, it was better that you didn't belong.

He knew what he wanted to tell her, but he would have to forget her after. It seemed almost cruel to tell her at all, but what if there was a chance for him to remember? She told him they were together in his future. If he found her and remembered this, it wouldn't be cruel to tell her now. From everything she told him, he gathered that even when he didn't remember this, his future self loves her too.

They stayed like that for what seemed like mere moments, yet it had to have been hours, dancing in each others arms. She was his songbird, his wild hawk, his secret wolf, and he did not want to give her up now. She did not seem all that eager to leave, which made him smile. He could only hope she felt the way he did, knew she would about his future self. That was it, he decided, he had to tell her now.

" _Sulahn'ean, Ar-_ " Fen'Harel went to say, but there was a clicking sound behind her.

Without thinking about it, he twirled her around so that he would be in the way instead. He had not expected her to also hear the sound, though he should have. Her arms instantly raised up behind him, and he felt the familiar tingling of her magic. She had created a barrier behind him to block the blast. When he looked into her eyes, he knew.

**" _Ar'an ema tol min i've?_ " He asked, trying to keep his voice light.**

**_**We have done this before?** _ **

"In a way." She replied, having returned to her language in her nervousness.

"You will have to tell me about it sometime." Fen'Harel insisted, knowing that using her language would make her calmer. Instead, she was looking at the people that were coming into the building through the rather large hole that had been created.

" _Tavinte? Amahn? Mala?_ " She asked, in shock and anger. "No! I will not let them have this…I  _won't!_   _Derelinquamus!_ "

**_**Tevinter? Here? Now? - (Tevine – Leave now!)** _ **

" _Sulahn'ean! Ar'an ema vara!_ " Fen'Harel growled, in despiration, grabbing at her wrist. She was already moving to strike at them.

**_**Songbird! We have to go!** _ **

This was not a time to be antagonizing an enemy they hadn't even heard the warning alarms for. Had the others planned this? There had been talk of trading, but this was something else entirely. He didn't have time to tell her now, and her resistance to being dragged away from the fight was slowing them down. If he understood anything about what she had told him, it was that what was happening now, as much as he hated it for his people, had to happen. She could not intervene, as it might change the tide of events.

"Pack." He growled angrily, hoping to wake her up to what was happening, once they got to her room. His anger just made her cry, and he realized this was something else she'd always known, if not the specifics. She had realized what this was, knew she couldn't help, and knew what he was trying to do. A moment of kindness then, a sense of urgency. " _Sulahn'ean_ , you  _must_  pack. We have to get you into  _Uth'then'era._  Do you understand? You can not  _stay_  here."

There wasn't much that she had with her. As she changed back into her old clothes, he took his staff and stood by the door to make sure no one got in. He could hear the sounds of fighting, of screaming, around them. A moment later, she stepped out with two over the shoulder messenger style bags, and they were off. There was fighting everywhere now, and many times they had had to join in just to get through a passage.

"I need to get to your study." She said, suddenly moving towards it.

"There isn't time!" He insisted, but she shook her head.

"Trust me!" She replied, already running in. "Guard the entrance! Give me as much time as you can. Damn it,  _Fen'Harel,_  I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

He had no idea what she had left in there that was so important that she had to risk everything to get it. She couldn't alter what had already happened. He couldn't risk things turning out worse than they already would. He would find a way to free his people in the future, but if he altered time now, he could risk her not even being born. As he stood beyond his studio, he thought of the painting they'd worked on together, wondering if such a future was even possible for them now, but she came along just in time to interrupt his thoughts, and they were moving again.

The further down they went, the fainter the screams became. Luckily, there were some of the sleeping cells open. He threw her things in without care, and turned to her. A last kiss then, because he didn't know if he'd ever get another one even if it had been promised in a way, as he held her head in his hands. She was crying, but returned the kiss as she could.

" _Sulahn'ean, Ar ema sulrahn sai dirtha na._ " Fen'Harel said, barely above a whisper. " _Ar ela tel'uth gara ei tael dys._ "

**_**Songbird, I have something to tell you – I may never get a second chance** _ **

" _Na shor. Ar shor itha na sal, eil na shor sila, eil melahn'an na te dirtha em._ " She replied, hurriedly. She cupped his face in her hands, as he had hers, and that's when he realized she knew that he would have to forget her. Of course she knew this too. She'd already met his future self with no memory of her. " _Melahn na sila min, eolasa ra Ar lath na ga'ta; ehn na ane mala, eil ehn na shor ea my. Te'na'eolasa?_ "

**_**You will. I will see you again, and you will remember, and then you can tell me. - When you remember this, know that I love you both; who you are now, and who you will be after. Do you understand?** _ **

" _Ar shor._ " He replied, softly, his voice breaking.

**_**I will** _ **

* * *

**Present day…**

He remembered  ** _everything_**  now, including the awful moment he'd made himself forget her. After she had slipped into  _Uth'then'era,_  he had not looked back. He became the Dread Wolf  _truly_  then, in every sense of the words, and  _slaughtered_   _everything_  in his path to get to his goal. He'd already set up everything he'd needed to activate the Veil, just waiting on the moment they would fuck up badly enough for him to have to use it. He figured betraying a people, and forcing him to abandon his nas'falon, qualified as badly enough.

 _Why?_   ** _Why_**  had they gone through all that trouble? To force him to find his nas'falon, only to bring the Tevinter Imperium down upon them all? Had they wanted her captured by them? Had they planned for him to abandon her to it?

At the moment, he was having trouble breathing. He was on his knees, arms around himself as he was gasping for air, and he couldn't pay attention to what was going on around him as the memories hit him. They had been stopped by a Tevinter patrol near the ruins of Arlathan. Dorian was speaking to them, he knew, but he could not focus to comprehend much else. He looked around to see that Varric and Zevran stood on either side of him as he struggled to breathe, like they were guarding him. Fenris stood behind Dorian, but in front of  ** _him,_**  postured like a slave and bodyguard, shaking with his head down.

Somehow, Dorian made the men leave. The others decided that it was best to keep traveling, and even though he was able to follow them, they knew that he was in no shape to talk. With the ruins in sight, it was hard to stop. They were so close, but night would fall soon, and so they began to set up camp. Solas didn't talk at all, at least not until they were in the ruins setting up camp the next day, having been still half out of it as he dealt with the memories that hit him.

"Andraste's bouncing sugar tits, Chuckles, what the fuck happened?" Varric asked, concerned, seeing that he was more aware now.

"That was…the last of…the forgotten memories…the true reason the Dread Wolf exists." Solas replied, still shaking from the severity of what had happened to him. "I made myself…forget her…I  _had_  to…to make sure everything went…as she told me it already had…or risk a fate…worse than the one…we are already in."

"What do you mean, Solas?" Dorian asked, cautious.

"I knew something was wrong when the others wanted to hold a dance in her honour…but I wanted to believe it was because they had finally recognized her as  _Evanuris_." Solas explained, slowly finding it easier to breathe. "She had managed to charm everyone in the arena, the servants of the palace, and many of the people outside the palace, but not the rest of the  _Evanuris._  It was foolish of me to believe they would ever have accepted her."

"I don't know, this is Hawke we are talking about." Zevran stated. "Given enough time, that woman can charm anyone. I have watched it happen."

"The Ball was in full swing when the Imperium attacked us. No alarms were sounded, no warnings given.  _Arlathan_  was overtaken before I could blink. The others had to have set it up just so, and knew the Imperium was coming. They were gone before I had even realized, having used my desire to spend time with  _Alhasha_  to their advantage. I should have realized they were gone before then, but all I wanted was to dance with her." Solas continued, wishing that Alhasha had been able to do as they all had faith she could. "When we realized it was the Imperium attacking us,  _Alhasha_  wanted to fight back, and I had to drag her away. I do not know if it would have made things better, but I couldn't risk it being worse than what she had already warned me of. She was…quite stubborn."

"That's putting it lightly." Varric replied, with a snort.

"When she'd gone into  _Uth'then'era_ , I took up the mantle of my name, and carved a path of death and destruction to keep them focused on me so that they would not even have the time to think to look for her before I activated the Veil." Solas stated.

"So we've gone from a mage who merely  ** _threatened_**  to drown a city in its blood to keep her safe, to a mage who  _literally_  destroyed an entire civilization to achieve the same." Fenris scoffed, angrily, as he began pacing.

"Dammit, Fenris, the city was  ** _already_**  drowning in its own blood! It didn't need my help for  ** _that._**  The rest of the  _Evanuris_  had invited the Tevinter Imperium in to take what they wished, convinced that they themselves couldn't be touched, that it would teach the slaves their  ** _place!_**  They hid, while the Imperium attacked our people, and I had to lock them away, or else they would have never stopped." Solas growled back, angrily, stopping Fenris short. "What would you have had me do? I risked  ** _everything_**  to free my people from themselves, and when I woke up, there was nothing left of them. They have fallen into mortality, forgotten nearly everything about themselves, twisted what was left, and denied the truths shown to them. Best of all, _I_  get to be known as the great betrayer, the trickster that locked away their gods, which is technically true. Yet they fail to remember that it was their 'gods' that had imprisoned them, that had betrayed them to the Imperium, in the first place. She told me that it would happen that way, the outcome of my actions, so that I would understand what it was I was really doing when the time came for it, when I would have to make myself forget. I had to lock away the best of myself to save her, and I didn't even remember her when she looked at me in that damned  _cell!_ "

"Way to go, Broody." He heard Varric chide Fenris, as he left to walk the ruins.

* * *

"Chuckles, come on. You're starting to worry me." Varric said, trying to coax the stubborn elf to sleep. He'd been searching the ruins since walking off earlier that day. "You need sleep, and I need to stop babysitting my people."

 **"** _ **No.**  _She's here somewhere." Solas insisted, stubbornly, shaking his head. "I have to find her, master Tethras."

"Then you can search the ruins in the Fade." Varric insisted, making the elf freeze stone still. "Flint told me you did that sometimes for fun, sleeping in battlefields and old ruins to explore the Fade. Was that something she wasn't suppose to tell me before?"

"No, it is fine, I just had not thought of that. Perhaps you are right, Master Tethras." Solas said, sounding as tired as he looked. "I can search the Fade."

"Just get some sleep. She'll kill me if she sees I've let you run yourself into the ground like this." Varric said, gently, like he was guiding a child back to their bed.

Solas chuckled, tiredly, as the two made their way. "I've destroyed an entire civilization, technically an entire world, master Tethras, and you're more afraid of what  ** _she'll_**  do to you."

"You're forgetting, Chuckles, I was the one who created her stories, which means I know what  ** _really_**  happened to the people who pissed her off." Varric reminded him, making the elf lightly chuckle again. "You can tell me  _all_  the details you want about how you carved a path of blood and death through  _Arlathan,_  but I have watched as Flint tie a man's hands behind his back, only to dunk him in tar and feathers and make him run around the city like a chicken. I don't want that happening to me."

"That is true, Master Tethras. Who would recognize you without your chest hair?" Solas replied, with a yawn, before disappearing into the tent, only to be stopped by Fenris as he tried to leave out the other side of it few moments later.

"Did you  ** _really_**  think that would work?" Fenris asked, arching an eyebrow at the elf.

"It was worth the attempt." Solas replied, with a sigh, and headed back into the tent.

"Maker's Balls, we're going to have to watch him." Varric said, as he sat down in front of the tent.

"Oh yes, because watching a caged wolf sounds like a  ** _wonderful_**  idea." Zevran cracked, as he looked beyond the camp. "I can't  ** _wait_**  for when that blows up at us."

* * *

True to their word, the four of them sat around the tent, and made sure he didn't crawl out of it. This meant, that while he was forced to sleep, they got no sleep. In the morning, when he crawled out of the tent, they took that as a sign that they could pass out. Today was better, he recognized the layout of the palace a bit better now, and maneuvered through the rubble. It was still hard to find where he was looking for, and he continued his search long into the night, using veil fire to light his way.

* * *

They found him the next day, sleeping with a barrier surrounding him. He was resting against a wall, clutching at a necklace like it was a lifeline. It didn't look like he'd gotten any restful sleep, or food since they had arrived in the ruins of Arlathan. He started awake a little after they got there, and gave them a small smile in appreciation. Varric just tossed the man a thing of rations when the barrier fell, and sat down next to him.

"Eat that. Right now." Varric ordered. "I swear, you and Flint are too much alike."

"At least you'll never have to worry about your tunic, master Tethras." Solas supplied, as he tried to open the package.

"When was the last time you ate, anyway?" Varric asked, just above a whisper.

"The past three days have been a steady supply of coffee and tea. With the last of the memories…I had no desire to eat." Solas replied, giving up on opening the package.

"Eat it, or I make you." Varric hissed, so the others couldn't hear. "…Stubborn ass elf."

"I would, if my hands were cooperating. As it is, I can't even get the damned thing open." Solas muttered, in annoyance. "…Annoying ass dwarf."

The two looked at each other, and descended into laughter.

"What  _is_  that anyway?" Varric said, when they calmed down. He opened the package and handed it back. "You've been clutching it like it was a holy relic or something."

"Indeed. It is something far more precious, master Tethras." Solas replied, gingerly handing the necklace to him. "I had that made just before  _Arlathan_  fell, a gift for her _,_ during the time she wasn't speaking to me. She had…accused me of not admitting something to myself, that I had mistreated her in my efforts to ignore her, and she was right. I didn't want to admit those things to myself, convinced that it was the only way to protect her. I had hoped to surprise her with this at some point after the Ball, but…then everything happened…I didn't get the chance to see the finished piece, but I know that this is it. It matches the designs I gave. There's a gift inside the necklace, should I ever prove worthy of it."

"Wow. You guys never do anything half assed, I see." Varric commented looking over the piece of jewelry.

"It does not do to 'half-ass' anything, master Tethras. What ever you do in this life, remember…always use your whole ass." Solas replied in his scholarly manner, as he munched on the rations Varric gave him.

Varric couldn't believe it, and just sat there staring at him. Solas had just told a joke, on purpose, and he didn't know what to do about it. To top it off, when Solas glanced over at him, the damned elf and one of those secretive smug grins. This was Flint's influence, he just knew it! The Solas he knew barely knew how to smile unless it was about the Fade or the state of the Veil.

Then again the Solas he knew had been hiding the fact that he was Fen'Harel, and the fact that his magic was responsible for blowing up the conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, so there's that. Ugh, he still hadn't processed that yet. He'd had those two pegged the moment he knew Solas was going to her in his dreams, but it still boggled his mind that out of all the men in the world, Flint would have to be matched up with someone who's legend was even more convoluted than her own. He should have bet more than his tunic. He should have bet  ** _Orzammar_ _._**

* * *

"Do any of you hear that?" Fenris asked, the next morning, moving his head side to side as if trying to clear his mind.

Everyone strained to hear what he was hearing, and suddenly Solas wasn't moving at all…looking like he thought he'd never hear that sound again. Then he was running through the rubble, trying to get to the source of the noise. Everyone but Varric began to pack up quickly, hoping to follow after him as they could. Little by little, a realization seemed to dawn on Zevran and then Dorian. Till only Fenris had not sat down again.

"Is there something I'm missing?" Fenris asked, impatiently. "Hawke is out there, and-"

"And if that's her, I really don't think we should be interrupting a reunion that's been 8,000 years in the making." Varric replied, leisurely sipping on his coffee.

"Why not? You do it all the time, Dwarf." Fenris huffed, in annoyance, right before everyone started laughing.

* * *

" _Alhasha?!…Lath'in!_ " Solas shouted, trying to find her.

He thought he heard her call out once before, but now he can't hear her anymore. Suddenly there's a scream from somewhere above in the upper levels, and then she's crashing into him from above. The two fall onto the ground, limbs entangled as they go, onto the hard stone floor. She looks even more beautiful now, he thinks, as she lifts herself up to look at him. All the words he'd wanted to say to her then get stuck in his throat, and finally he gives up, pulling her back down to him for a kiss.

" _Tamahn'air mai'el…Ar ema sai dirtha na._ " She said, when she pulls away.

**_**There's so much…I have to tell you** _ **

"I…I understand… _Lath'in_ … _Ar sila mala._ " Solas replied, unwilling to stop himself from stealing kisses. "I…I have  ** _missed_**  you."

**_**I remember now.** _ **

He draws her to him again, and this time she does not pull away. They can't stop kissing each other, clinging to one another, as if they're trying to make each other real again. One of his hands makes it into her hair, while the other finds its way under her shirt. She caresses the shell of his ear as she kisses her way down his neck. He gasps at the feeling of it, and if there's a heaven he's in it. They are so lost in each other, that they do not hear the party getting close to them until it is too late.

"Damn it, I figured it would be Solas on top." Dorian remarks, coyly, and the lovers quickly pull apart. "Dwarf, I owe you 6 sovereigns."

" _Thu'el te na la nar'falon'en?_ " Solas asked, ruefully, looking over to her.

**_**How much do you like your friends?** _ **

" _Sahl'in, ra'air paerdarardi._ " She muttered, darkly.

**_**Right now, that's debatable.** _ **

"What reason could the four of you  ** _possibly_**  have for interrupting  ** _now_?"**  Solas asks. It is clear in his voice what he had in mind had they not showed up, and that he was very pissed that they'd shown up.

"Rivaini got back to me. She'll be there to pick us up, but we have to leave now if we want to get there on time." Varric replied. "She said there's been problems around Starkhaven, but nothing she can't handle. It's good to have you back, Flint."

"I missed you too, Dwarf, so know that when I say this, it's with all the love in the world." Alhasha replied, as the two stood up. "While you are my best and most awesome friend ever, you are also the biggest fucking cockblock in all of Thedas."

* * *

"Why do you assume this is my fault?" Varric asked, in mock offense.

"Fenris knows better, Dorian looks way too amused for this to have been his idea, and Zev wouldn't have stopped us otherwise. Most likely, he would have just tried to join in." Hawke remarked, earning her a surprised look from Solas and laughter from Zev.

"She's got you there, Varric." Zevran said, jovially. "She knows me. Unfortunately, it's not as well as I would like. She has never wanted a dalliance with me, and I have never seen her glorious body unhindered by clothing."

 **"** Incurable flirt." Hawke muttered.

"So, who won the other bet?" Solas inquired, looking at them with suspicion.

"You suspect another bet?" Hawke asked, grinning at the conspiracy of it.

"With this lot there's  ** _always_**  another bet." Solas replied, his face sour, but his voice held no real malice in it.

"Everyone now owes me 10 sovereigns each." Fenris replied, grinning sheepishly. "I bet that no one would believe the idea had been mine."

Hawke just looked at him like she'd never seen him in this light before, and muttered. "Well, I'll be damned."

"You may indeed, if you get lucky." Solas whispers into her ear.

"I don't know. It hasn't happened yet." She replied, with a playful smirk of her own.

"I would like to point out that ancient  _Arlathan_  was completely Varric free." Solas teased, as they began to make their way back to camp. "You are forgetting about the three days we stayed locked away in my room."

"Only three days? Your mind must be playing tricks on you in your old age,  _Ara'nas_." Hawke teased back. "It was a solid week."

"There is no way you escaped my room after a week and still maintained your virginity." Solas said, playing along with her rather jovial mood. "It was a miracle we made it three days,  _Lath'in_."

"So sure of yourself, are you,  _Fen'Harel_?" She chuckled, whispering into his ear before continuing on ahead with him following her soon after.


	17. The Way Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has her back. Finally, he has her back. Emotions are running high, and gratefulness easily turns to jealousy. Varric has the perfect thing to fix this, which creates more strongly felt emotions and problems. Solas has to realize what is important, and reveals what he is most afraid of. There will be so much to go through, even as they make their way back to Skyhold. This will not be an easy trip.

**Chapter 17**

They had all hoped for a day of rest when they found Flint, but with Rivaini's note came the need to travel that day. Varric hadn't been lying about that, but that wasn't the source of his latest mystery now. Flint and Chuckles hadn't spoken hardly at all to each other since the day's traveling had begun, but they didn't look like they were ignoring each other either. A touch was a word, a look was a conversation, and a gesture spoke volumes, but how had they gotten like that? Hopefully, that was something he would get answers to soon.

"Alright, you two. We need you to have to have an actual conversation, with words and everything, for the rest of us. You understand." Varric declared suddenly, when they'd gotten settled that night by the camp fire.

"Just because you can not hear the words, master Tethras, does not mean there is not a conversation." Solas stated, with a smug grin, his right arm wrapped around Flint.

"I think what he means, Solas, is that we want to talk with Hawke too." Dorian replied, with a wry grin of his own. "I don't think you want us talking with her the same way you do."

"Yes. That. We want to know everything." Varric said, expectedly. "We've already heard quite a bit from Chuckles over here. What's your part, Flint?"

* * *

Alhasha looked caught up in thought, when Solas decided to explain.

"They know." He said, nodding towards the others. "At least this lot does; Why the conclave was destroyed, how my foci got there, who I was, everything."

"Everything?" She asked, so low he was surprised he could hear her at all, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Yes,  _Lath'in_." Solas replied, with a slight smile and a nod. "I needed them to trust me, to help me find you, and I knew of nothing else that would convince them."

"Nothing much, just overthrowing everything we thought we knew about life. You probably could have lied to us, and say you saw it in the Fade. It  ** _is_**  your go to reason for everything else. I'm sure we would have bought it." Dorian remarked, with enthusiastic sarcasm. "So, back to the topic at hand. What was it like in Arlathan? I want to know everything. What will you miss the most?"

"The plumbing." Alhasha said, automatically, causing several of them to laugh. "You guys don't understand. They had piping that ran clean water straight to you. You could turn a nob, and have the water be exactly as hot or as cold as you like it. You didn't need dwarven rune stones or magic for it either. You could even push a lever, and water would rush into the necessary from inside it, and send it through a pipe at the bottom to somewhere else!"

"Of all the things to miss,  _Lath'in."_  Solas chuckled.

 **"** There are a few of the people I will miss, friends that I'd made while I was there." Alhasha admitted, smiling in fondness. "It was so beautiful. Some places had crystal spires in the trees, others had beautiful mosaics in stone castles that seemed to reach the clouds. I studied as much magic as I could, trained in fighting to be better. There are healing potions that can do so much more than what we use now, poultices that heal within hours instead of days. Spirits were everywhere! I had an in depth conversation about artistic processes with a spirit of Inspiration. Love and Desire each tried to convince me that they were the most important aspect of a relationship, and Faith and Fear wondered how I could feel both things at once and not explode."

"Spirits and Demons, Hawke?" Fenris asked, warily.

"That's the thing. They weren't demons. We make them that, because that's what we're told they are, and the spirit feeds off of our imagination, and becomes what we say it is." Alhasha tried to explain. "There were a few I had to avoid. Love can just as easily turn into Obsession if it isn't careful, and just because they aren't demons in the way we know them, doesn't make them any less dangerous when they focus on you."

"It's just…I can't imagine it, being friends with spirits. It's…beyond what I know." Fenris said, shaking his head, sounding a bit disappointed. "With a past like mine, it is amazing I can talk to Dorian without wanting to kill him. I still haven't wrapped my mind around Cole."

"I could probably spar with you with a broad sword of my own sometime." She suggested, changing the subject.

"Could you really?" He asked, surprised. "Just how bored were you, Hawke? I tried to get you to pick up a sword ages ago."

"Like she needs to be dangerous with another weapon." Varric retorted, chuckling.

"Where is Zevran, anyway?" Alhasha asked, suddenly, as she looked around. "I thought he would stick around to hear about this."

"He left during one of your 'conversations', said he had to get back, that he was glad you were in good hands." Dorian replied, grinning. "I'm sure he meant all kinds of things when he said it too."

"He usually does." Alhasha said, with a cheeky grin.

"I do not like him,  _Lath'in._ " Solas admitted, thinking back to the way that Zevran acted around her. "He desires you."

"Zevran desires everyone. He and the Hero of Fereldan have a very…interesting…relationship." Alhasha replied, unsurprised.

"So, Chuckles, about that kiss with Lightning." Varric asked, acting business like, as he got out his note book.

"Wait, when was this, and why are you not dead?" Dorian asked, chucking at the way Solas now glared at the dwarf.

 **"** Oh, that's nothing." Alhasha countered, her voice laced with acidic sarcasm. "You should have been in ancient Arlathan. I got to watch as servants offered themselves to him to use as he saw fit, because their 'gods' gave them to him as gifts."

"I did not want anyone else when I knew of you,  _Lath'in."_  Solas objected, softly, surprised at how angry she was about that…though maybe it was about Lavellan. "It was not-"

"You know, I think I'm going to go for a walk before it gets too dark." Alhasha said, interrupting him. She was gone before he could object.

"Why, in all of Thedas, did you feel the need to bring that up  _now_ _?_ " Solas growled, angrily, glaring at the dwarf. Alhasha's emotions were already running through him; anger, sadness, confusion, and he wasn't sure how much of that was bleeding into his own anger.

"You were so busy being bothered by how Zevran was acting towards her, that you didn't pay attention to her reaction to it." Varric pointed out. "She has never shown an interest in him, but you had shown an interest in Lightning at one point. You needed to see what her reaction would be to that."

"That would be fine, if that's all she thought that was." Solas shot back. "Thanks to you, and the damned tevinter, she now thinks this was during the time she was  ** _missing_ _!_ …**Her heart…How could you two be so  ** _careless?!_ "**

* * *

" _Alhasha_!" Solas called out, walking around near where she was. She hadn't responded to him, but just then he found her anyway. She was sitting on a fallen tree, looking at the ground. " _Lath'in_! I'm glad I found you… _Lath'in_?…"

"Why…She was our friend, and you-" She was stopped when he put his index finger on her lips, as he sat down beside her.

"I am going to kill that dwarf." He muttered, ruefully, before replying with a sigh. "Yes,  _Alhasha,_  Lavellan and I shared a kiss. It was long before I found you in that cell. We decided that it was better that we stayed friends. She is a remarkable woman, truly, but she is not where my love lives. She is not you,  _Alhasha_."

"Why am I so angry? Is this normal? Is it messed up that I have to  _ask_  if this is normal?" Hawke asked, filled with anger that she knew was not entirely her own. At least it was waning.

"It might be part of the spell. I felt your despair at losing BarkSpawn, and just now there was…anger, sadness, confusion. You feel so many things at once." Solas replied, looking deep in thought. "It does not happen often for me, but when you feel something so intensely, it bleeds over. I should have thought to say something before now…As for your anger…I am  _really_  angry at that dwarf. He felt it necessary that I see your reaction to hearing of the kiss with Lavellan, considering how I reacted to Zevran being…Zevran."

"That I reacted so quickly…You do that too?" Hawke asked, tentatively.

"Yes. With your nature being as playful as it is, I have had to deal with quick bursts of jealousy and anger, because I failed to realize what was important." Solas admitted. "You are you, and it was foolish of me not to realize that your reaction was the only one I should have cared for."

"Do you think we should stay out here longer? Make him sweat a little?" Hawke asked, arching an eyebrow. "It would do for that dwarf to realize who he's dealing with."

"I almost feel sorry for him…" Solas replied, running his fingers through her hair. "…Almost."

They did end up going back to camp, after toying with the idea of staying away. It was dark by the time they got back anyway, and Varric seemed to breathe with relief now that they were back. Solas offered to take watch, but the others were not fooled. He wanted privacy with Hawke, and this was the only way he was going to get it at the moment. They played along though, much to his relief, and no one was surprised with Hawke offered to stay up with him.

* * *

They sat by the fire for a long time in silence, but in the comfort of each other. How many mistakes was he going to make before he got this right? She did not seem to mind the silence, simply enjoying being there as he was. He wondered if maybe now was a good time to tell her, to give her the necklace. She seemed to sense the shift in him, and sat up from leaning on him.

" _Alhasha_ … _Ir abelas, Lath'in_ …When I first met you in that cell, I knew what you could come to mean to me, but I ignored it and you for as long as I could. It was something I knew about myself when I created the spell, and so I gave you every piece of knowledge I could, hoping it would be enough for my  _nas'falon_  to get through to me. I gave you every big piece of information I could…except for what I feared most." Solas said, staring at their hands. She'd entwined her fingers with his own. "I feared losing what I loved most, because I already had, because I had ignored her…the only family I had left…it was the one thing I couldn't bring myself to share."

" _Mythal_?…she was…" Alhasha wondered.

"Like Fenris is to you. The woman you know her to be is not the woman she was. Her entire being has shifted because of what the others did, and it is my fault that she can not exact her revenge now. When I cast the spell to find you, the pain was new, blinding, and I did what I always do when something becomes too much. I ignored it." Solas admitted, sorrowful. "I ignored her, thinking it would keep her safe, and it got her killed instead. The same thing very nearly happened to you."

"You're not about to ask me to stop, are you?" She asked, half warning and playful.

"No, I could no more ask you to deny your nature than you could ask me to deny mine." He replied, with a slight grin. "When I met you in  _Arlathan_ , you shocked me. You threw my mistreatment of you back in my face, and brought low a man who thought himself a god. My soul had called for someone who's will could rival my own, and when you yelled at me that day in the courtyard, I knew I had made a terrible mistake in ignoring you. To no longer hear your voice again…there could be no greater torment than that."

"Solas, I didn't want to hurt you…I was just…tired of being the one doing all the giving. You looked so sad, and I'd wanted to make you happy again, but you were always taking without giving anything in return." Alhasha said, her voice soft. "I just wanted to wake you up."

"You did that, and more,  _Lath'in._  I realized what I had done, the time I had wasted. I wanted something to show you I had been listening, and I commissioned the palace jewelers to make this." Solas stated, as he brought out the necklace. "I couldn't believe I'd found it in the ruins, when I was searching for you. It has written on it, the only promise I can not break, if you will accept it."

The chain was intricate, elvhen knot work that cradled a deep rich red jewel. He'd meant what he'd said to Varric that there was a second gift inside the necklace. It was a beautiful piece, intricate, but what mattered was the enchantments placed on it. Hidden within the jewel, though she did not know this yet, was the ring he would ask for her hand with should he ever prove worthy of it. He'd learned a lot about the future she spoke of, and rather liked that particular custom.

"Solas…it's beautiful." Alhasha whispered, her finger running over the jewel. "Red's my favorite colour."

"I may have noticed." He replied, with a grin. "There's an inscription on the back I think you'll like."

She turned over the piece to read the inscription, and saw the words.  _Ar shor eilar vena na._

"You told me then that this phrase was important to us, for both good and bad reasons, which seemed appropriate at the time; even more so now. It is the only promise I could ever make to you that I can not break.I will always find you, and if I should ever run, I know that you will always find me." Solas admitted, then held it up to her neck to clasp it. "May I?"

She nodded, and he moved to clasp the necklace at the back of her neck. As he clasped the necklace, he rested his head against her own, loving the feel of her hair around him again. When he moved away, he kissed the shell of her ear. The necklace looked good on her, the jewel resting in the dip of her throat.

" _Ar shor eilar vena na, Alhasha._ " Solas said, softly, as he rested his forehead against her own.

" _Ar shor eilar vena na, Solas._ " Alhasha replied, just as softly as he had.

* * *

The trip to Rivain was almost uneventful. The teasing by the group had continued, and it didn't help that the others kept interrupting moments that the couple would steal away for alone time. Solas took everything in stride, feeling like he could finally breathe now that Alhasha was back. Alhasha, however, grew more agitated with each interruption. Unfortunately, now he had all the time in the world to worry about the future too, which dawned on him a few days later.

"You're worrying again,  _Ara'nas_." She said, playfully, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You get this crinkle in between your eyebrows when you worry."

"I am wondering what to do about those that know, and those that do not." He said, by way of explanation.

"What you  ** _should_**  be worried about is Rivaini." Varric snickered.

"Maybe that's why Zev left. You know she goes straight for him, not that he ever complains…Something about Antivan leather, she said." Alhasha giggled, mischievously. Then it looked like a sad thought occurred to her. "You don't think she'd…"

"Flint, she still tries to guess the colour of Broody's small clothes." Varric replied, effectively answering her question. Whatever it was, she would try it.

"Don't remind me." Fenris groans, as they continue to make their way towards the ships.

"Isabela!" Alhasha suddenly shouts, happily, and races ahead of them. "Isabela!"

"Hawke! It's good to see you sweet thing, and look. You've even brought Fenris and Varric along too." The woman cooed, as she gave Alhasha a hug. Her hand was almost to Alhasha's ass when Solas grabbed the woman's wrist. "What tha-? Oh! Well, you're certainly a tall one, aren't you."

"I would suggest you keep your hands to  ** _yourself_**  where  _Alhasha_  is concerned, Woman." Solas suggested, forcefully, squeezing her wrist tightly once before letting it go.

"Isabela, this is Solas. Solas, this is Isabela." Alhasha said, as a way of introductions.

"Wait, Hawke, what did he call you?" Isabela asked, amused. "Is that really your name?"

"Hawke is technically my family name. Alhasha is my given name. I just…don't…give it." Alhasha said, getting a bit flustered.

"It was a name given to me to use alone, Woman." Solas stated, keeping his voice civil. "Respect that, and leave her be."

"Oh, you're no fun." Isabela teased, then looked back over to Alhasha. "Come on. My ship is just over here. We can get some drinks, some food, and you can tell me all about why Choir boy keeps eyeing my ship."

"Choir boy?" He asked, looking to Varric as they all made their way to the ship.

"Vael." Varric answered, knowingly.

* * *

"Okay, so. Drinks, food, all that's left is a story, Sweet thing." Isabela said, suggestively, but she knew that Hawke could always tell when she was being serious.

What she did not expect was for Hawke to look to the serious looking elf as if asking for his permission for something. Isabella sighed, and shook her head. So this was about secrets then, and not just her own or Hawke would have spilled the beans easily. Whatever it was, it was serious, which she already knew that. So she sat back, with an easygoing smile, and tried a different approach.

"Alright, Sweet thing. Let me tell you what I know so far, and then you decide how much more you should tell me." Isabela said, earning her a grateful smile from Hawke and an inquisitive but surprised look from the serious elf. "Sebastian has lost his mind, chasing up and down the coast, looking for you these last few months. He's spouting all kinds of things about you being Fen'harel's chosen ( _at this, Solas looks at her with narrowed eyes, and his arm tightens around Hawke all the more protectively for it. Interesting._ ) to anyone and everyone who will listen, and that he must save you from yourself. I'd be willing to bet he also wants you as some kind of trophy queen for Starkhaven. I've heard rumors you narrowly escaped his men via some kind of rift magic in Redcliff."

"He was after her in  ** _Redcliff?_**  How did the Inquisitors' people not notice?" The serious elf, Solas she reminded herself, asked. He looked truly worried for Hawke, and angry…very very angry.

"The same way you don't notice everyone in a crowded street, I suspect." Isabela replied, evaluating his reactions. "So, what is it that you two can tell me that explains all this?"

"What do you mean?" Hawke asked, carefully.

"Oh, Hawke. You two are trying to protect each other in front of my very eyes, and you think you can pull the wool over them so I won't see it. It's almost adorable." Isabela stated, getting down to business. "You looked to him, which means this secret is his too in some way or other. He tightened his arms around you not only when I said Sebastian was looking for you, but more so when I said you were Fen'Harel's chosen. So either he  _isn't_  Fen'Harel and he's got one hell of a fight on his hands, or he  _is_ , and ( _Both of them tense up then, and her eyes widened at that_ )… _Oh_ _._  Well then. We're going to need the good stuff."

She made her way over to a cabinet where she kept a stash for special occasions, and grabbed a bit of everything. When she walked back with the tray and a few glasses, she noticed that Hawke's hand had moved to cover his, and that her fingers were intertwined. Isabela didn't know if this was to reassure him or to save her. They did look like they were trying to draw comfort from each other. Which ever it was, Isabela made her way back over to them, and sat back down.

"Now, before we start celebrating, or whatever this is, I know about the age progression illusionary bracelet you wore. So are you sure you can drink this, Hawke?" Isabela smirked, playfully. "Might have to leave you at the kiddie table."

"I could drink you under that kiddie table." Hawke shot back, with a grin.

"What's your poison, Solas?" Isabela asked, setting out the glasses.

 **"** Bourbon if you have it, whiskey if you don't." Solas replied, politely. When everyone had their drinks, Hawke began to look around nervously.

" _Lath'in_ , if it helps, I have my sketchbooks with me." Solas said, gently, as he looked to Hawke. She nodded, looking somewhere between frightened and nervous, and Solas began looking through the messenger bag he had on him. "The magic that I specialize in is Fade related. It is easy for a mage to share dreams with another, or to stumble upon them, as the case may be. ( _He brought out a particular book then, and set it down. Before Isabela could reach for it, he pulled it back_ ) When I saw this in the Fade, I did not react well. I yelled at her for not telling me, angry that she didn't want to talk about it with anyone. ( _Isabela sees the scars on his hands then_ ) What he did, what he wants from her…I can't think about it without wanting to punch something or set it on fire."

"Hawke, how bad is this?" Isabela asked, cautiously.

"Not as bad as it could have been." Hawke replied, before biting her lip. So Isabela took the sketchbook. "You remember when we convinced Vael to get drunk? ( _She had never called him Vael before. This_ _must_ _be bad._ ) I didn't really tell you the truth about what happened when I walked him back to the Chantry."

"I know, Sweet thing." Isabela replied, softly, surprising both Hawke and Solas. "You didn't want to talk about it, and Solas here looks like he has the scars of the consequences of trying to force you to talk about things when you don't want to talk about it."

"She didn't do this. I did." He responded, surprising Isabela. A bit sheepishly, he added. "I may have wrapped a fire spell around my hands and punched out the training dummies till they disintegrated."

Her attention was once again pulled to the sketches. "…Hawke…He didn't…Tell me he didn't get that far…"

"He didn't…The next day I just acted like nothing happened, and everything seemed fine. Nothing like that ever happened again, and I just let myself believe he didn't know." Hawke admitted, with an apologetic face. "After the thing with the Chantry, he started sending assassins after me. Come to think of it…I'm an idiot."

" _Lath'in_ , you-" Solas was cut off.

"No. Think about it. All this time we never figured out why I was just left in that cell naked. What if you showed up right before  _he_  would have, like the rift magic at Redcliff?" She insisted, her mind chasing a string of events Isabela wasn't fully aware of yet. "It explains the magebane, and everything."

"Hawke." Isabela interjected, getting her attention. "You're losing me here."

"Sorry, Bela." Hawke chuckled. "I suppose if we're both revealing secrets…( _she looked to Solas again, who nodded_ )…I'll try to start at the beginning, but it's hard to know where that is."

"Let's start with you in the cell naked." Isabela suggested, coyly. "That sounds like the best beginning to any story."

So, Hawke told how she'd gotten caught and thrown into the cell, how Solas had popped in out of nowhere, and the two escaped out of there. She described having been dosed with Magebane before, and again with an arrow just before meeting up with the rescue team. There was day to day stuff, times when he'd ignored her and the Mabari decided to intervene, things like that. Isabela laughed when Solas described how Hawke's father had been accosting him in the Fade about ignoring his baby girl, and the jealousy at being pushed away when she was alone with Zevran. The death of BarkSpawn was hard to hear, and neither lingered on it for long, instead chosing to talk about the assassination attempts Vael had sent against her.

"The magic that took her away in Redcliff was mine." Solas stated. "The mark on her ankle, the howling wolf, is the mark of a spell I cast in ancient  _Arlathan._  It was meant to find the one for me, my  _nas'falon_ , while also getting the others of the so called pantheon to leave me alone. Because of certain circumstances, I did not remember it working immediately. Time magic is…tricky that way."

"What do you mean?" Isabela asked, cautiously.

 **"** Until recently, I believed my first meeting with her was somehow showing up in a jail cell one night to find her naked." Solas answered, one of his arms still around a blushing Hawke. "The dwarf went ballistic when he realized who I had found, and declared he was leaving to find her. I felt…intrigued by this Flint of his, that she had the ability to call across the Fade like that. At least, that's what I told myself she was doing. I had not read 'The Tales of the Champion', so I didn't know who Hawke, or Flint, was."

"Hard in Hightown?" Isabela asked, mischief in her eyes.

"Swords and Shields." Solas admitted, with a grimace.

"I like that one." Isabela chuckled. "I helped with the pictures."

"At least now I know who to blame for scarring my mind forever." Solas replied, with only a hint of a smile. "Later on, master Tethras told me stories of her. He explained the reason why she loved Barkspawn so much, that she did not view  _Fen'Harel_  as a curse the way so many did, that she always had a surprise or two handy. However, we have realized since then that my first time meeting her was her second time meeting me, and vice versa. The rift magic that took her away in Redcliff sent her to ancient  _Arlathan,_ to just after I cast the spell."

"Was it as  _sordid_  as they say?" Isabela asked, in a sultry tone. She noticed Hawke frown at this, another telling sign.

"There was more decadence and carnal pleasures than you could ever possibly imagine." Solas replied, though his tone suggested regret. "However, I'm sure that what you would imagine is based in a mutual decision between all parties involved. That was not the case. Many had no choice. Slaves were offered to us as gifts to do with as we pleased, who gave of themselves because they thought they had to honour us, and we thought we had to be honoured. If all you want out of sex is the physical pleasure of it, it is still best to be consenting on equal footing. When you believe yourself a god, to take is gratifying. When you are a slave with no choice…there is much I regret about ancient  _Arlathan._  It is why I created the Veil, why I trapped the others."

"So what did you do while you were in ancient  _Arlathan,_  Hawke?" Isabela asked, seeing that her friend was now trying not to shake.

"Oh, you know me. I kicked ass in one of the arena's for a while, till  _Falon'Din_  go his small clothes in a twist, and  _Elgar'nan_  decided to move me into the palace to give his son a better shot at revenge. Which, he tried, but I literally 'kicked his ass' for being such a tit, and yelled at  _Fen'Harel_  for ignoring me and being an ass about it." Hawke remarked, offhandedly.

"That reminds me,  _Lath'in_. I take it that Isabella here is the inspiration for your 'serving girl' outfit?" Solas asked, teasing her. Hawke was blushing furiously, and now Isabela was curious. Before she could even ask, Solas produced another sketch.

"Hawke…this is…I knew teaching you how to make a corset was a good idea. You look ravishing." Isabela stared at it for a second. "Hawke, are you not wearing any small clothes?"

"I was feeling a bit vengeful that day." Hawke admitted, a bit sheepishly, but not really answering the question. "Anyway, after a while, I found a place like the Hanged Man, and spent my nights gambling till he stopped ignoring me."

"I  ** _did_**  apologize for that,  _Lath'in_. Keeping you at bay to protect you is apparently a bad habit that has stayed with me even through forced memory loss." Solas said, looking repentant. "I believe the three days after that was ample enough apology."

"I told you, it was a week." Hawke chided, playfully swatting at him.

" _Alhasha_ , there is no way I could have resisted being in the same room alone with you naked for an entire week without seducing you out of your virginity. I am surprised we were able to resist it for three days, let alone an entire week." Solas insisted, a bit perplexed. Hawke grinned mischievously, and whispered something in his ear. Whatever she said had him straighten up in his seat, his eyes wide as a slow grin spread across his face. "I stand corrected. It was a week."

"You mean to tell me that you two have never…? Seriously?" Isabela asked, in disbelief.

"I may have been overzealous with my desire for her, which lead to tears, which lead to her explaining to my past self everything about Vael, which lead to the absolute refusal to go at anything but her pace." Solas explained. "Anything before Redcliff happened was interrupted by the Dwarf, something he seems to be making a habit of now that  _Alhasha_  is back."

"Wait, so how  ** _did_**  you get back? Another rift thing?" Isabela asked, looking to Hawke.

"Apparently I slept for 8,000 years." Hawke replied, with a straight face, before descending into giggles. "I may never need beauty sleep again."

"I don't understand." Isabela said, seeming confused.

"The last moments of  _Arlathan_  were hectic. The others called a party to distract everyone while the Tevinter Imperium quietly invaded. By the time they attacked the palace, it was too late." Solas explained, thinking back on the memory of it. "I was able to get her into  _Uth'then'era_ , before I locked away my memories of her and activated the Veil."

"So if you did all that to protect our friend, why do you look so dodgy?" Isabela asked, surprising him.

"While I still had no memory of her, I tried to correct my mistake, to undo the Veil." He explained, and she had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to like where this was going. "My people indirectly lead the Venatori to the foci that holds most of my magic. Corypheus used it to try and enter the Fade physically, and caused the explosion at the conclave."

"Hawke, how long have you known about this?" Isabela asked, her mind reeling from this worse than any alcohol she'd ever had.

"Since before Haven fell." Hawke stated, causing Isabela to swear under her breath. "I knew who he was almost the moment I saw him in that cell. I touched his face and saw that his mistakes were like mine. When I got sent back, I told him what had happened, and he locked away those memories so that things would progress as I had explained them. I'm at just as much fault as he is for it. It could be so much worse than this, Isabela."

"Shit, Hawke. How much worse than this could it be?" Isabela asked, angrily. "Have you looked outside lately?"

"If I had kept my memories, and tried to change things, it could have destroyed everything.  _Alhasha_  may never have even been born." Solas replied, calmly. "I was always going to create the Veil, I had just hoped never to activate it. Corypheus would still have happened, and it would have been worse. He would have found the foci with or without my people's help, and then we would have  _no_  chance. With no one to oppose him, he would have taken over everything within a year."

"Does Sebastian know about all this?" Isabela asked, more than a little freaked out right now.

"He knows a great deal. He knows who I am, who  _Alhasha_  is by being with me, and it is possible he knows about the conclave. We did speak of it before the assassins tried to kill her." Solas said, patiently. "I am uncertain if he knows everything else. We did not even know there had been someone after her in Redcliff till you told us."

"I'm sure you mean well, Solas, but I'm going to need you to step outside while I talk with Hawke for a minute." Isabela said, very carefully.

"Of course." He said, with a nod to her, before looking to Hawke. " _Lath'in, ra shor ea san_."

* * *

 **_Lath'in, ra shor ea san –_ ** **_**Love, it will be alright** _ **


	18. The Way Back; Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabela means well, really she does, but that doesn't always mean things turn out like she plans. Solas feels the brunt of her protective nature towards her friend Hawke in more ways than one. First, when she tries to kill him, and Second; when she tries to seduce him. He does what any good man would do, and runs, though not without a magical twist, in order to finally get her to leave him alone. But things don't stay smooth sailing for long, and now they have to figure out how to outsmart a Vael.

Chapter 18

 

"So, what do you think they're talking about in there?" Varric asked, as they waited for the meeting to end.

"Probably how crazy this all is, what is she thinking by being with me, didn't she learn anything watching Anders descend into madness. Little things like that." Solas remarked, as he walked towards them.

"You can still hear them?" Varric asked, surprised.

"Yes, though to be fair, they are speaking rather loudly." Solas replied, starting to look a bit green. "I think screaming would be the proper term."

"Solas, are you alright?" Dorian asked, seeing this.

"I don't…I don't think I am…no, I'm not feeling well, Dorian." The usually reserved elf admitted, looking sicker by the minute. "We did not travel…on the ocean…This is…the first ship…I've ever been on."

"THAT'S  ** _IT!_** " Shouted Flint, bursting through the doors, and onto the main deck.

"Hawke, listen to me!" Isabela shouted, trying to reach her.

"No! You don't get to fuck every man and woman in Thedas, and then tell me I can't have a relationship with someone because you don't like him." Flint growled, having whirled around to face Isabela, who had chased after her. "The only reason why you even think you can act like this towards me now is because you now know I lied about my age. You can't mother me, and I'm not Merrill."

"He's  ** _dangerous_ ,** Hawke!" Isabela shouted, sticking to her argument.

"Do not expect me to believe it's because he's dangerous.  ** _I'm_**  dangerous, and you had no problems wanting to try to fuck me. Or is that the problem? That I'm out of reach, or that he is?" Flint shot back.

That brought Isabela up short. "Is that really what you think?"

"Anyone that has ever shown an interest in me becomes some kind of forbidden honey to you, and then suddenly you have them in your bed." Flint chuckled, darkly, though there was no humour in it. "What else would I think? Tell me, Isabela, how long will it be before you try to get  ** _him_**  into your bed, after telling me he's dangerous?"

Flint stormed off without another word, and Isabela was left just standing there. Varric turned his attention back to Solas, who was now very very green, and had sat down with his back resting against a wall. He didn't actually think an elf could get that green. Isabela walked over to them a little while later, looking more than a little confused. She'd clearly never had this serious of a fight with her friend before, and that was including the fight about the relic.

"You all know who he is?" She asked, more to confirm than to inform.

"Yes, dear. We've been dealing with an ancient tevinter magister that wants to be a god." Dorian replied, coyly. "An ancient elf that has already played at being a god isn't so strange after something like that."

"You're aware he's responsible for all this twice over?" Isabela asked, continuing the line of questioning.

"Yes, woman, they  _ **know!**_  Now what is it that you really came over here for?" Solas growled, before groaning.

"You trust him?" She asked, looking to them. For a moment there was nothing.

* * *

 

"I trust Hawke, and she trusts him." Fenris said, as if he'd been carefully weighing this for a while now. "That's good enough for me."

"I did not expect your blessing…so soon, Fenris…or at all, really." Solas admitted, taking deep breaths to try and calm the nausea he felt. It seemed to be helping a little. "Thank you."

"Sea sickness doesn't present this fast." Varric noted, looking over at Isabela. "…Rivaini, what did you do?"

"She believed Vael first, and poisoned Solas." Alhasha said, as she walked up to them.

"Hawke, I-" Isabela tried to say, looking apologetic.

"Don't, Bela. There's no time for it." Alhasha said, cutting her off. "Just help him."

"We'll need to get him into one of the rooms below." Isabela said, as Fenris and Dorian began to help him up. "Think you can handle things while I'm gone?"

"Commanding a pirate ship? And here I didn't get you anything." Alhasha grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Without another word to them, she whirled around and began barking orders at the men. "Raise anchor. We need to get this ship moving. ( _No one really moved, and instead, paused to look at her. This caused her to get angry, and growl out._ )  ** _NOW!_ "**

* * *

"Shit, Rivaini. What did you  ** _give_**  him?" Varric asked, as he watched Fenris and Dorian practically carry Solas into the room.

"I can fix this." She insisted, and started buzzing about the room.

They put Solas on the bed, but things were already not looking good. He was deteriorating quickly, already shivering as if he were freezing to death. His eyes were closed, and his breathing became shallow, like breathing was the only thing he could focus on. If Varric didn't know any better, he'd say Solas was dying. Then again, he never said that the 'gods' couldn't be killed.

"Why is it…so cold?" Solas asked, shaking still. "What…did that woman... ** _do_**  to me?"

"He's burning up, Varric." Dorian remarked, concerned. "I've never seen a poison work like this, and I'm from Minrathous. It's our national pastime."

"Must be his body's way of trying to fight it off." Varric mused.

"I can fix this. I can." Isabela insisted, working over a morter and pestel now. "I didn't realize…Sebastian is suppose to be one of the good guys…I didn't expect him to  ** _lie_**  to me."

"She knows, Bela, otherwise she wouldn't have forgiven you so quickly." Fenris said, quietly. "I'm guessing you haven't gotten any news from Varric in some time."

"Not since the news about the age progression bracelet." She replied, throwing in a few more ingredients into the mix.

"That's been months ago." Varric said, looking up. "I've sent you tons of things since then. Nothing sensitive, just stuff on how things are going with the inquisition day to days, juicy details about Flint's love life, stuff like that."

"Solas? Solas, we need you to stay awake." Dorian said, jarring Solas awake.

Solas looked at him as if he were barely awake, but still managed to scowl up at him. " _Ard masa Tavhen._ "

"I think he just called you a loud ass Tevene." Fenris said, with a bit of amusement. "Vasta vas. He's asleep again. Bela, how soon can you get that ready?"

"Few more minutes." She said, working quickly. There was shouting outside, sounds of alarm.

"Broody, Sparkler, go help Flint. I'll stay here and keep Solas awake." Varric said, and moved to sit by the elf when they left. "Rivaini, how long till things go bad?"

"The fact that he's even still alive speaks volumes." Isabela said, as she worked. "I'm a poison master, Varric. He should already  ** _be_**  dead right now, I'm glad he isn't, but still. Keep him awake, it's his best shot till I finish making this."

"Chuckles, wake up. Don't make me give Flint another 'I'm sorry, but your loved one is dead' speech again." Varric said, shaking the elf awake again. "I've had too much practice at that as it is. I may have to write a 'how to' guide. Don't make me have to write a 'how to' guide, Chuckles."

"Still worried…about…what… ** _she'll_**  do to you." Solas remarked, with a smirk, before nodding off again.

"Solas,  _ **damn it** ,_ I'm serious!" Varric snapped, jerking Solas awake.

"I just need to sleep, Dwarf…I'll…I'll be fine." Solas insisted, not even bothering to open his eyes anymore. "Who knew you…worried so much?"

"Solas, don't you get it? If you sleep, you're  ** _dead_ _!_ "** Varric declared, urgently, hoping this would get through to him. "Alhasha will get taken by Vael. Is that what you want?"

" _Alhasha?…mahn air as?_ " Solas asked, starting awake, but Varric didn't understand what he was saying. " _Mahn air Alhasha?_ "

"Here, drink this." Isabela said, not giving Solas time to object to her, and forced the drink down his throat. "There. He should be alright soon enough. I'll send Hawke in here."

Solas had taken to rambling, so Varric just nodded and wrote down everything as the man went on.

" _Na myr'ema ithem ash, Varric…es'an tel'eolasa…ahn sai te i'ash…Ar'tel'eolasa…Ash inan…ithem…rajane ove'em…tuem em av'ahn garahnen Ar'eolasem…eil thu as brithem…inor ra gra'paer'jul…la ise…Ar tel'paeraesi'ash…As air garahnen…Ar'lath'ash, eil Ar'tel'eolasa…vis Ar shor aelaes ea gonathe or'ash…"_

"How is he?" Flint asked, worriedly, rushing into the room.

"She gave him the antidote, so he should be fine soon. He's still delirious though. Said a bunch of stuff I need to get translated." Varric said, then pointedly looked at her. "Oh look, a translator. My hero."

"You'll always be an obnoxious dwarf, you know that?" Flint asked, relief in her voice, but she took the paper anyway. "Your spelling is atrocious, but if I'm reading this right, it says  _' **You should have seen her, Varric…They didn't know…what to do with her…I didn't know…Her eyes…saw right through me…made me question everything I knew…and how she looked…in that red dress…like fire…I do not deserve her…She is everything…I love her, and I do not know…if I will ever be worthy of her…** '_ Varric…this is…you evil little dwarf. Go, before he realizes what you just did."

He just grinned as she handed him the paper and shewed him away. She didn't even look at him as she sat down where he had been by the bed, her eyes focused on Solas now. Solas was still babbling, but it was incoherent mumbling now. The way he saw her looking at Solas, Varric wasn't sure he had words enough to describe it. He stayed for a moment longer, observing the two of them, before heading out onto the deck.

* * *

_Alhasha?…mahn air as? -_ **_Alhasha?…where is she?_ **

_Mahn air Alhasha? -_ **_Where is Alhasha?_ **

* * *

He woke up with a mass of black hair by his face. Looking around, he realized he was in a bed, and Alhasha was with him. Not remembering going to bed last night, Solas struggled to remember what had happened. That foul woman had poisoned him, and that was someone Alhasha considered a  ** _friend_ _?!_**  He was trying to get out of bed, when Alhasha snuggled into him some more, and he caved.

"Don't even think about it,  _Ara'nas_." Alhasha said, sleep still clinging to her voice. "I'm too comfortable for you to go and kill my friend."

" _Alhasha_ , she-" Solas tried to argue.

"Poisoned you. I know. She's been mislead by Vael. She didn't know. She does now. Congratulations, you've officially been adopted into the group. One of us has tried to kill you, now you're in." Alhasha countered, playfully, cutting him off. Solas just stared at her incredulously, wondering at the logic of that. Then, with a wicked grin, she added. "Besides, there were things you confessed to Varric in your delirium. I'm sure you'd much rather want to know what you said to him, that is…if I decide to tell you."

"I'm sure I can think of at least  ** _one_**  interrogation technique that will get the information I desire, _Lath'in_." Solas replied, going along with her game, and lightly ran the tip of his tongue along the shell of her ear.

"Mmm…There m-may have been something about a red dress." She offered up. He smirked as he moved to kissing along her neck. "M-Maybe s-something about not deserving me."

"Is that everything, _Lath'in_?" Solas asked, smirking as he nibbled at her neck, enjoying how she shivered at it. Before he could blink, she had moved them to where she was above him now, her hair cascading around him.

"You told him that you love me." She answered, grinning wolfishly.

" _Ar'sila mala ahn na dirthem…ra na'lath'em eis Fen'Harel, eil eis Solas._ " Solas replied, before pulling her down till she was flush against him and he could kiss her to his heart's content. " _Ar'lath'na eis Sulahn'ean, eil eis Alhasha._ "

**_I remember now what you said…that you love me as Fen'Harel, and as Solas. – I love you as Songbird, and as Alhasha._ **

* * *

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door that stopped them from doing anything more, and the two groaned in disappointment.

"Maybe…Maybe they'll go away." Hawke offered, giving him small kisses along his jawline.

She loved how he made little pleasurable groaning sounds at them. So, she moved down a little, kissing along is neck. Instantly, he moved his head to the side, exposing his neck to her even more for better access. There was something about it that called to her nature, and she  ** _very_**  much liked that. The offending knock happened again.

"No such luck, it seems, _Lath'in_." Solas replied, but grinned when she did. She sat up, moved her hands about a little, and soon there were no sounds save for their breathing.

"You were saying?" She asked, with a cheeky grin. He flipped them to where he was on top, and began kissing down her neck, working on the little buttons on her shirt.

"How do you know they won't blow up the door?" He asked, to which she laughed.

"And risk Isabela's wrath for damaging her ship?" Hawke asked, still laughing. "Not a chance!"

The door didn't get blown up, but suddenly it just…fell to the floor.

"Come  ** _on_ ,** Hawke, there's a DiamondBack game getting ready to start, and Varric insisted you…" Dorian said, and paused mid-step as he saw how they were. "…I'm going to  ** _kill_**  that dwarf."

"You'll have to get in line." Hawke growled, sitting up, working on the buttons of her shirt.

* * *

Dorian had been interested to see what she meant. Her eyes had promised revenge of the most embarrassing nature, and he was not disappointed. Before anyone could say a word, Hawke flicked her wrist when they entered the room, and had Varric hogtied and hanging like a piñata within seconds. The others took turns describing his predicament in his friend fiction format, after a good laugh, of course. Solas, who was still recovering from Isabela's poison, was near death with laughter before she finally let the dwarf down from his punishment.

"Now you see why I'm more afraid of what  _ **she'd**_  do than what  _ **you'd**_  do?" Varric asked, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "You'd kill me. She'd embarrass me to death."

"So noted, master Tethras." Solas replied, trying to get back to his usually aloof manner, with a slight chuckle.

"I  ** _was_**  going to give everyone sticks to hit him with, but I was afraid he'd enjoy that a bit too much." Hawke said, offhandedly, and suddenly the room erupted in laughter.

It seemed that her and Isabela had made up in no time at all, sharing jokes over the course of the game. She even got the pirate to apologize to Solas, who cautiously accepted. Odd though, how little Hawke brought to the betting table. Stranger still that she was losing at an alarming rate. She certainly wasn't acting like she was losing.

"Hawke, it seems you're all out of coin." Isabela snickered, and leaned in suggestively. "I don't think I've ever seen you in this position before. What could you  ** _possibly_**  offer as payment should you lose this time?"

"How about the ultimate secret then?" She suggested, with a bit of a grin.

"You don't mean…" Isabela's voice trailed off.

"Oh I do. Win this hand, and I'll tell you the ultimate secret…The colour of Fenris's small clothes." Hawke said, leaning in like she was offering the answers to a conspiracy.

"Hawke…" Fenris said, a warning.

"How  ** _exactly_**  is it that you know this information?" Solas asked, jealousy clearly heard in his voice.

"Stayed at his place when I had a big fight with Carver." Hawke replied, not worried at all. "I offered to do the laundry and things as payment for the kindness. You can find out a lot about a person by doing their laundry, and in this case, the colour of his small clothes."

"Hawke, you promised." Fenris charged.

"Did you  ** _really_**  think you could pull something like what you did at the ruins of  _Arlathan_ , and there not be a price?" Hawke asked, and it was Fenris who paled. "Win the hand and the secret stays, lose the hand and she knows."

"You are a cruel woman, Hawke." Dorian noted, with some amusement. "Remind me not to piss you off."

Fenris won the hand, but it was a close thing. Hawke made sure he regretted ever thinking about interrupting her again. Even Dorian was contemplating never assisting Varric in anything, just in case it accidentally lead to blowing up Hawke's room again. He frowned when he realized that there was something to that accusation Hawke made against Isabela earlier, as he watched Isabela's focus shift to Solas. Dorian could only hope they got back to the Inquisition before someone died.

* * *

Isabela found herself with a new project. She just couldn't seem to keep her mind off of the sophisticated standoffish elf that always hung around Hawke. Unfortunately, Hawke had been right when it came to the men interested in her. If they found Hawke interesting, they suddenly became a delectably forbidden honey to Isabela. Solas interested Isabela now, more so because he refused to even give her the time of day.

There was something to this Solas, she realized, as she watched him. The fact that he was as dangerous as she said he was, made him all the more alluring to her. She used every line she knew, every subtle and not so subtle suggestion, to get him to turn his head. Not only was he not tempted by her, he looked disgusted by the things she did or the things she said to him to try and get him to turn his head. She had thought it was because she had tried to tempt him while he was near Hawke, but she got the same results when she found him alone. The elven man simply was not interested in her, and that intrigued her more.

Now, however, he had been walking alone for some time. She saw this as her chance, and went after him. Every once in a while, he would look over his shoulder, as if he suspected he was being followed, but went back to walking again moments later in his unhurried pace. When he was out of sight, she thought nothing of it, closing in on her prey. However, when she was about to round the corner, he already seemed to be at the end of the next bend.

* * *

"So, where is she?" Fenris asked, with a smirk, when Solas got to him.

"Following an illusion of me around the ship." Solas replied, with a smirk of his own. "Where is she?"

"Up in the crows nest, waiting for you." Fenris answered, pointing up to it.

"These bracers have been charmed to keep the illusion going, but they need body heat to activate them. If you could get someone to wear them, I would appreciate it." Solas said, as he took off two leather bracers, and set them down on the crate.

"Just get going before Isabela rounds that corner." Fenris advised, looking down at the bracers. When he looked back up, Solas was already gone, and Fenris snickered to himself as he took the bracers and strolled around looking for someone. "Hey, Varric, fancy a game of Wicked Grace?"

"As long as it comes with the story of why Chuckles is scaling the ropes to the crows nest, and Rivaini is running around the ship for apparently no reason." Varric replied. Fenris just responded with a grin, and the two went to gather more players.

* * *

"You look like the cat that ate the canary." Hawke remarked, when she saw him.

"I was thinking the wolf that ate the fennec, but that works just as well,  _Lath'in_." Solas replied, with a grin.

"That poor defenseless fennec." Hawke giggled, as she sat down. "Come on. I have everything set up for a picnic." When they had settled down to eat, she looked over at him. "So, what did you do?"

"Your pirate friend is currently chasing an illusion of me around the ship. It was the only way I could think of to get her to leave me alone." Solas replied, as he looked at the different dishes. "…without actively trying to kill her of course."

"That won't work forever, you know." Hawke teased, but frowned after. "I'm sorry. She means well…I think…You still can't kill her."

"Do not worry,  _Lath'in_." Solas insisted, gently pulling her closer to him. "I would much rather have to deal with an obsessed pirate than another poisoned sweet bun."

* * *

some time later…

"So what do you think they're doing up there?" Varric asked, after unsuccessfully trying not to think about it.

"Whatever it is, I'm not going up there to find out, Dwarf." Fenris said, cutting off his attempt early. "I would like to keep the secret of my small clothes, thank you."

"You're no fun, Broody." Varric grumbled, but there was no bite to it.

"I hate to say this, but maybe the dwarf is right." Dorian said, after a moment. "All Hawke wanted was for the two of them to have some alone time. They haven't had much of that since we found her again, and dealing with a now 'Solas crazed' Isabela on the ship. Why does she do that, anyway?"

"I can't tell if its because she's jealous of her, or trying to protect her." Varric admitted. "It might be a bit of both, or some form of the 'want what you can't have'."

"It is insane how fast that elf can move, hasn't stopped once." Isabela said, as she walked into the room. "So, what are we talking about?"

"How you go after the men in Hawke's life." Fenris replied, without missing a beat, as he traded in a card. "As I recall, you were rather  ** _'interested'_**  in me, till you realized I didn't see Hawke in the way you thought I did."

"Is there a list? Oh, I feel a list coming on." Dorian commented, as Isabela sat down with a pint. "I do so love those."

"Guardsman Maecon had a thing for her for a while. Poor boy couldn't understand why Flint suddenly stopped flirting with him." Varric started them off, deciding to carry on with what they were doing.

"Then there was Tomwise. You remember him, right, Varric?" Fenris continued. "She knew him before she'd met any of us, besides Aveline, but he had one night with Isabela and the only thing Hawke went to him for was ingredients after that."

"The Commander was even interested at one point." Varric snickered, like it was some great secret. "Isabela started chasing him. He ran away, and hid in the Gallows. After that, I swear we didn't see him till the Chantry blew up."

"Was there ever anything to that rumour about King Alistair?" Fenris asked, feigning curiosity. Isabela was now fuming. "I heard he couldn't take his eyes off of her as soon as she walked into the room."

"You should have been there, Broody. She walked into the room, and suddenly no one else existed in his eyes but Flint. Crowds parted for them, choirs sang, I think there were doves flying around, but Isabela mentioned something about 'royal honey', and Flint shut down hard." Varric replied, in full story mode. "Poor bastard never had a chance. I had to explain it to him after she left too. I never thought I'd see a King look so crestfallen."

"I'm not that bad, am I?" Isabela asked, looking to Fenris and Varric.

"Maybe not to every man she's ever been interested in, but certainly to every man who's ever been interested in her." Varric replied, not unkindly. "So…um…yes."

"I don-" Isabela was going to object, but Fenris cut her off.

"They show interest in her, you sleep with them, she doesn't look at them again. It's a pattern." Fenris stated. "He's never going to be interested in you, Isabela, accept it."

"Spoilsport, what makes you so sure?" Isabela asked, with all the assured cockiness she had developed over the years.

"Because he calls her his  _Lath'in_." Varric explained. The game had been all but forgotten at this point. "He's called her that since before Haven fell."

"What does that mean anyway?" Dorian asked, intrigued.

"It means 'The place where love lives'." Fenris answered. "He told me that the day I got to Haven, when he asked for my blessing."

* * *

She found him eventually, up in the crows nest. The two were sleeping, resting against the edge. Isabela chuckled a little when she saw them like that. His face was practically buried in Hawke's hair, his arms wrapped around her waist. She just shook her head, and went back to the game.

"You're not going to believe this. They're asleep, with their clothes still on and everything." Isabela said, shaking her head. "The one time no one disturbs them for hours on end, and they don't even take off their clothes."

Everyone starts handing Dorian coin.

"Who wants to bet he'll propose before we beat Corypheus?" He asked, counting the coin.

"That's probably the second gift that's in the necklace, come to think of it." Varric said. "It might be after though, like during the celebration you know we're bound to have."

"Who says they'll even make it off the boat without him proposing?" Isabela asked, with a grin. "With what I saw up there, I'd say he's thinking about it."

"So that means you're going to stop trying to sleep with him then?" Fenris asked, teasingly.

"Oh, shut it, and place your bets." Isabela scoffed, though the smile never left her face.

* * *

Needless to say, those two spent a  ** _lot_**  of alone time together on that ship. But the closer they got to Starkhaven, the more the others noticed a change in their friend. Hawke was never this quiet, even when she was planning something. They tried to get her to talk about it, but she just shook her head, and said she'd breathe easier once they got to Skyhold. If they could just get past Starkhaven without being noticed…but no such luck.

"Fuck, Hawke, we're in trouble." Isabela announced. "They've set up a blockade."

"Hawke, I know what you're thinking, but we can't fight this time." Fenris said, grabbing a hold of her arm. "We're flying the flag of the Inquisition."

"Then what do we do, because we can't just sit here and let them see us." Hawke growled, and he knew she wanted nothing more than to fight them then.

"Hide." Isabela stated. "Come on. I have plenty of hiding places on this ship. I  ** _am_**  a pirate, you know."

**" _Hiding?_**  That's the best idea we have?" Hawke asked, looking like a trapped animal. "Why can't we just conjure up a storm and blast through the blockade? I rather like that idea. I'm fairly certain I could do it."

"That will still be seen as fighting, Flint, and you know it." Varric countered. "We can't risk it."

* * *

"Alright, Isabela, hide us." Solas stated, determined.

**" _What?!"_**  Alhasha shrieked, whirling around to face him.

"  _Alhasha,_  any other time, I would agree with you. However, this time…we're flying the flag of the Inquisition. We attack them without provocation, we will be declaring war on Starkhaven on behalf of the Inquisition, and that's not a fight we can win today." Solas reasoned. She shook her head, pacing back and forth, not wanting to hear it.

"Without provocation?!" Alhasha shrieked. She was angry, royally so. "Are you fucking kidding me right now, Solas?"

"It is how they will see it, how others who investigate it will see it. The Inquisition has no reason to attack them. I am  ** _sorry_ _,_**   _Lath'in_." Solas insisted.

"Then we let them see me. That's provocation enough, I assume, and  ** _then_**  we blast our way through." Alhasha reasoned, determined. She was not going to make this easy.

"Absolutely not!" He growled, shocking her into silence. "I am  ** _not_**  going to stand by while you put yourself in danger just so you can pick a fight. There are better ways to deal with him, and we will figure out what they are later. For now, we hide."

Those were words he never thought he'd say, but these were extenuating circumstances. Alhasha did not look like she would do well if she hid alone, not when everything in her told her to fight, everything in her practically screamed rebellion. The wolf was within her always, and feeling caged as she was would not help her now. So Isabela lead them to the Captain's quarters, and once inside she pointed to under the bed. At this point, even Solas was looking dubiously at this.

"You can not be serious." Solas remarked, with disbelief. "Under the bed is the first place anyone looks."

"Not like this." Isabela said, with a smirk. To prove her point, she lifted up a small section of board, and revealed a hidden hiding spot. "It's literally under the bed. No one thinks to look under the floor under the bed. Trust me."

Solas decided not to mention the fact that the last time he trusted her, he ended up with poison in his drink. Then again, she had asked him what his 'poison' was, he just hadn't thought that she meant it literally. There was enough space in there for him and Alhasha to lie down together. It was deep enough that, when Isabela closed the board, they could even sit up a little. However, now he had to worry about how to handle a cornered wolf in a small space.

" _Lath'in, te na dhrua em?_ " Solas asked, seeing how tense she was getting. This wasn't going to work if he couldn't get her to calm down. She seemed surprised by the question, but nodded. " _Ar isalan na dhrua em min_."

**_Love, do you trust me? - I need you to trust me now_ **

Before she could ask why, they heard the sound of the door opening again. Solas wasted no time then. He took her hand and put it to his heart, while he did the same to hers, and they knew no more of the waking world. When he looked around, he saw that she had already shaped the world around them, whether she knew it or not. She trusted him with this.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking around.

"This is your world,  _Lath'in_ , you tell me." He replied, bemused.

* * *

"Fenris, get in here." Isabela hissed, and closed the door again. When he came into the room, she continued with. "Get naked."

"Really, Isabela, are you really  ** _that_**  desperate to know what colour my small clothes are?" Fenris scoffed, as he walked in.

"I was going to make this fun, but since you're being a fuddy duddy, you only really need to get  ** _mostly_**  naked. Throw your armour around the room like we've taken things off without caring where they land. Understand?" Isabala relented, pretending to be put out.

"And where in the Void have you hidden them?" Fenris asked, understanding her plan, as he began doing exactly as she'd asked.

"It's better you don't know." Isabella replied. "But I doubt they can hear us. He's probably pulled her into the Fade or something like that."

"Well then, if we're going to make this convincing." He replied, with a smirk.

* * *

The Fade…

"This is…this is Lothering!" Alhasha exclaimed, excitedly. "You mean to tell me I recreated Lothering? That's incredible! How did we get here so fast?"

" _Lath'in,_  no. We…" Solas almost didn't want to tell her the truth, but when he sighed as he said that, she faltered. "We are still on Isabela's ship. This is the Fade,  _Lath'in._  This, where we are now, is your creation."

"Why here?" She asked, coming down from her happiness.

"This place holds meaning to you. It will always be important to you,  _Lath'in._  That has not changed." Solas said, wanting to lift her spirits up. "Come, show me this Lothering of yours."

"But if it isn't real…" She said, her voice trailing off.

"It is real  ** _here_ ,**  _Alhasha_." Solas insisted. "It may not live, but it is as real as anything can be."

"You really wish to see a smelly old backwater town like Lothering?" She asked, tentatively hopeful.

"Tell you what. You show me Lothering, and maybe someday I'll show you the smelly old backwater town I grew up in." He suggested, earning him a slow spreading smile from her.

"You sure you lot didn't just spring up out of the ground like that?" Alhasha teased, waving her hand towards him. "I had  _Falon'Din_  half convinced a crow laid an egg and the sun hatched him."

" _Lath'in_." Solas scolded, though it held no bite to it, and she grinned all the more for it.

* * *

Things were tense when not only the blockade inspectors walked on deck, but Sebastian as well. The King of Starkhaven, like they didn't already have enough problems, now they were going to have to deal with his ass too. Varric watched as he spoke to each of the crew, only asking a few questions each before moving onto the next. The inspection crews reeked havoc all over the ship, turning everything over, finding many of Isabela's a little too easy to find secret hiding spots. Which begged the question, where was Isabela?

"It's been a long time, Varric." Sebastian stated, his tone sounding almost as if he'd never changed.

"Not long enough, Vael." Varric replied, curtly.

"You've been ignoring my letters." Sebastian stated, sounding slightly offended.

"You threaten my friend's life, and my home, and wonder why I don't write?" Varric asked, in disbelief.

"Speaking of Hawke, where is she? You know I'm looking for her." Sebastian noted, sounding almost bored now.

"She disappeared in Redcliff, some sort of rift thing, but you know that already." Varric growled, losing his patience.

"I do. I also know that a small scouting party was sent out to find her, but not to Redcliff." Sebastian stated, as they walked.

"Intercepting another's post, Vael?" Varric asked, civilly.

"A gentleman never reads another's mail." Sebastian responded, not really an answer though.

"A  ** _gentleman_**  wouldn't." Varric added. "You, on the other hand, are another matter."

"She is wanted for high treason!" Sebastian shouted, angrily, throwing away pretense.

"Against who, Vael? She isn't a citizen of Starkhaven, and Kirkwall loves her. She defended their city, protected their people, and gave the criminal responsible the worst punishment imaginable. Living with it." Varric countered.

"When I take Kirkwall, I will charge her with high treason." Sebastian declared.

"No you won't, you want her too badly." Varric said, his voice low. "You've wanted her since before Kirkwall's Chantry fell, and you think this is your way to get her."

"You will not speak so familiarly with me." Sebastian ordered, before stepping back.

"I'll speak to you any damned way I want, Choir boy." Varric shot back.


	19. The Way Back; Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get through a blockade, why not embarrass a king? It works, and they make it home, but things get interesting. Hawke sees something wrong, and she must fix it, so she pulls one of her wing man stunts. Meanwhile. Everyone is beginning to prepare for the Ball at the Winter Palace.

Chapter 19

The Fade…

To learn these little things of her, things he was sure had not made it into Varric's stories, felt like a kind of treasure in their own way. It felt like her name, others may know it now, but it was only his to say. At the moment, they were walking up a familiar path, when she paused and turned to stare at him. It was as if she had realized something important, and she didn't know whether to be angry or embarrassed. Secretly, he was hoping for embarrassed.

"You've been here before." She said, very carefully.

"To the house we're going to? Yes. To Lothering? No." Solas replied, truthfully. "I did tell you that I have been accosted by your father in the Fade on multiple occasions."

"So you did, but…I hadn't realized…" She mumbled, her face picking up a curious shade of pink.

"I've met your mother once too, though she insists I call her Leandra, and calls me ' _young man_ '." Solas added. The pinkness of her cheeks became darker.

"She didn't give you 'The Talk' did she?" Alhasha asked, scrunching her eyes shut, almost as if she were afraid of the answer.

"The…talk?" Solas asked, now slightly confused. "I do not understand."

"When she spoke to you, did you feel like ripping out your ear drums so that you wouldn't have to listen to it anymore?" She asked, opening her eyes again. Solas shook his head no, though he was amused. "Then she hasn't had 'The Talk' with you. Pray she never does."

As they continue walking, he hears her mutter. "Even in death, my mother finds ways to embarrass me…Somehow, that sounds normal."

* * *

 

The 'Captain' had been missing thus far in the 'inspection, so he could only assume it was to hide Hawke. He'd spent too much time arguing with Varric. The teams had come up with plenty of reasons to detain the pirate, but not what he wanted. She was here, he could feel it, and he would tear this ship apart to find her.

One of the teams came back to tell him there were suspicious sounds coming from the Captain quarters. Varric and someone he called 'Sparkler' snickered in the background. He could only imagine that they were placing bets on what he would find. Sebastian groaned inwardly as he walked up to the door. Surely she could not be this crass?, he thought, as he knocked on the door.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Fenris growled, breathing heavily, when he opened the door.

The tall darker skinned elf stood there with the door open, shirtless, breathing heavily. Sebastian could see Isabela gazing at him from behind him, wearing even less than she normally did, and he couldn't help but notice how Fenris's armour was spread across the room, as if they had been…as if they had been…otherwise occupied. Makers breath, could the woman not have waited till the inspection was done. Then again, Isabela was known for being something of an exhibitionist. Fenris, on the other hand, looked beyond pissed at being interrupted.

"Fenris?" Sebastian realized. "What are you doing here?"

"What it  ** _looks_**  like. Now get in, or get out." Fenris growled, and paused for a moment, before slamming the door in his face.

Sebastian turned and strolled quickly away from the door in question. He did not want to be anywhere near that room, but what if that was the point? Varric was snickering at him, so that must have been the point, and he could only imagine the blush he was reflexively sporting right now. They must think him a fool for falling for that. He turned back around and knocked on the door, only to wish he hadn't.

Fenris opened the door again, only this time he was pinned up against the wall by Isabela, who seemed more than intent to focus on her current activities. At the present moment, she was kissing her way down the elf's torso. Sebastian had never blushed harder in his life. This was completely uncalled for, and his men were standing right behind him seeing this as well. He was pinned to his spot until Fenris just looked at him with amusement.

"So you're joining us then?" He asked, his voice obviously affected by what Isabela was doing. Needless to say he closed the door, spun on his heels, and proceeded to leave the ship amid a flurry of snickers.

* * *

 

"We should wake them up now." Fenris stated, once Sebastian had gone.

"And miss this?" Isabela asked, slyly, now trying to work at his trousers.

"We are not doing this, and if we  ** _ever_**  do this it will certainly not be here." Fenris growled, pulling her up. "You have Hawke and Solas in here somewhere, and I will not have them waking up to  ** _that_ _!_ "**

"Spoilsport." She teased, before helping him to find the clothes he had managed to throw all over the place.

* * *

 

"Do  ** _not_**  ask." Fenris says, before putting on a shirt, as soon as Solas gets out of the hiding spot. "The important thing is that we are now through the blockade, and Sebastian may never bother Isabela's ship ever again. As it is, I'm sure the Dwarf has at least six bets on what went on in here, and I'm too disturbed to even think about what they may be."

"As tame as that would have been considered in  _Arlathan_ , I doubt  _Alhasha_  is ready for anyone to suggest that kind of a tumble, Fenris." Solas replied, sending Isabela into a fit of giggles. "She's a bit too territorial to consider playing with others, and I rather like the idea of having her all to myself."

"Vasta vass." Fenris grumbles, his ears looking particularly more reddish than they had before. He might have been saved from further embarrassment if Alhasha hadn't woken up at that moment.

"Oh, please tell me Varric already has a beautifully written friend fiction of whatever he thinks happened in here." Alhasha stated, huskily, sleep still clinging to her voice.

"I'm sure it's being written as we speak,  _Lath'in_." Solas replied, without missing a beat.

* * *

Later that night…

"They're going to ask what happened when we get back." Hawke said, out of the blue. They had been looking out at the sunset for the last little while. "You prepared for that? Fuck, I'm not even sure what to tell them."

" _Lath'in_ , I think you're starting to catch my proclivity for worrying too much." Solas teased. "When you disappeared, I told the Inquisitor I couldn't explain yet. She didn't even question me, just said 'Take who you need. Get her back.' She knows I will tell her in time."

"I'm serious, Solas. Lavellan will want to know. Cullen will want to know, not to mention Leliana and Cassandra." Hawke insisted, with a huff. "I'd bet anything Leliana has an idea already. The woman is a brilliant spymaster. Being made the Left Hand to the Divine, is nothing to sneeze at."

"If she knows, and hasn't said anything, she is an ally we will need later." Solas replied, and Hawke smiled because he finally said 'we' when talking of that. "As it is, the lot of them may have some ideas of their own. I was rather…well…out of it…when you disappeared."

"Out of it is not quite how I would have put it, but it will suffice." Fenris remarked, walking up to them. "The man was rambling in half sentences, pointing at different locations on the map, all of which are the site of ancient elvhen ruins, asking if you'd had any former connection to the elven gods. 'Out of it' does not cover that. My money is on Lavellan."

"We're placing bets on this?" Hawke asked, turning to him.

"Why not? We place bets on everything else." Fenris replied, frankly.

"Good point. I suppose my money is on Leliana then. 5 sovereigns." Hawke said, after a thought.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Solas muttered, before looking up, and replying. "8 sovereigns on the Commander, if only because Cole is hanging around him more now. The two are looking out for Biscuit, and I have not closed off the boy's mind to me."

"My money is on Buttercup." Varric stated, as he wrote everything down. "What about you, Sparkler?"

"You can't guess Iron Bull, because while we have not told him, he knows enough to have already worked it out for himself." Hawke said, before he could say anything. "He's using plausible deniability as his reason not to tell the Qun."

"He's a good man, Iron Bull." Fenris commented.

"Then I'll throw in with Hawke." Dorian supplied. "That Sister Nightingale is one scary woman."

"I'd say Sera is worse." Varric muttered, and everyone laughed at that.

"So what, though, we just wait for them to come to us?" Hawke asked, getting back to the original topic.

"That seems best." Solas said, after a thought. "As it is, I think Sera knows more than she'll say. She did send Zevran."

* * *

Lavellan's P.O.V

The moment she saw them, she knew something was different about them now. It looked like Solas and Hawke were closer now, which was good, but it was the others that made her wonder. They all acted like they knew a secret now. They stood around the two as if waiting for something to go after the couple. Though, to be fair, that had been happening already.

"It's good to have you back." Lavellan said, as she hugged Hawke.

"It's good to be back." Hawke admitted, returning the hug.

"The way Solas was when he left, I'm not sure if there should be a report on this or not." Lavellan stated, much to Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine's annoyance. "But, you could tell us…right?"

"I'm not sure. It's all pretty confusing. I wouldn't even know where to start right now." Hawke admitted, guiltily.

"Well, according to Cole, Biscuit has missed you." Cullen said, handing off the Mabari pup to her. "The recruits, and Jim, will thank you for distracting him for a while, I'd say."

"Thank you, Commander." Solas said, nodding to him. Hawke was already walking away, happily cooing to the little pup. Solas turned back to face Cullen and the others. "I am sorry that we are not able to tell you everything right away. I knew it would involve my secrets when I left, but I did not understand the extent of which they would be involved. It will take us some time before we are able to sort through it all. These secrets are no longer just my own."

* * *

Never before had he run into this problem. Sleep had always come easily to him before. Now he needed that tea more often than not, and he detested tea. Alhasha had taken to sleeping back in her own room, now that they were back in Skyhold. He wondered if she had this problem now too, as he had not thought to ask her about it in the days that they had been back.

**_~Treats?~_ **

"What is it?" Solas asked, rubbing the sleepy bugs from his eyes, not like he was really sleeping.

**_~Rubs can't sleep. No Treats~_ **

"She can't sleep either?" Solas asked, getting down from his bed. "Why didn't she say anything?"

**_~Treats didn't say, Rubs didn't say~_ **

"It's easier for her to find my room. I have no idea where hers even is." Solas insisted, long over the shock of talking to the Mabari pup.

**_~You don't like chase? Rubs thinks Treats likes chase. Treats likes chase? Biscuit like chase. Chase! Chase! Chase!~_ **

"Then help me find her room." Solas requested, unable to keep from chuckling.

He had forgotten that Alhasha knew his nature best, and would play into it. However, he had been circling his own nature, because he thought she wouldn't want it that way now. They knew how the other felt now, so there shouldn't be the need for the chase, and yet…With a chase, things would never be boring.

As he followed the small Mabari pup, he noted the nobles that seemed to loiter in the great hall. They paid him no mind as he made his way. Only the servant girl that helped Lavellan really saw him, and she blushed and looked away as she realized what he was doing. He just smiled at her and continued on his way. He and the pup continue on, disappearing and reappearing all over the place.

At one point, Solas begins to wonder if the pup even knows where it was going. Maybe it  ** _was_**  leading him on a wild goose chase. He yawns, and shakes his head. He is sleepy, but restless, and can not sleep now. They come up from somewhere, and suddenly he realizes exactly where they are.

This place was hidden, existing in the same space as the rotunda, but not. He had made this place before, as a hideaway of sorts. How had she found this place? Fuck, he'd been stumbling ass drunk when he'd  ** _made_**  it. Now, their Mabari pup knew how to get there without trouble, and proceeded to scratch at the door.

"Biscuit, what is it now?" Alhasha called out, as she fumbled with the locks on the door. "You wanted out, so I let you -" She opened the door to let Biscuit in, only to look up and see him standing there. "-out."

**_~Biscuit found Treats!~_ **

"So this is where you went off to, sneaky little shit." She grumbled at the pup, but there was no anger in it.

"You can't sleep." Solas stated, not asked, and she eyed the pup.

"You  ** _told_**  on me too?" She whined, sending the pup scrambling behind him.

**_~Treats not sleeping. Treats misses Rubs. Rubs not sleeping. Rubs misses Treats. No need. Biscuit bring Treats!~_ **

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" She cooed, picking up the pup. "But you've forgotten one thing. When we're together, the gross kissy kissy happens."

**_~Ugh! Gross, kissy, kissy!~_ **

That was all the encouragement he needed, closing the door behind him before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in for a kiss. He could swear the Mabari was laughing in his head, as the pup scrambled out of her hold and onto the floor. It bounded off for another part of the room. When they finally broke the kiss, both of them yawned. Alhasha started giggling, lack of sleep, and easily amused.

"Why can't we sleep without the other now?" She asked, before yawning again.

"My guess? We've spent weeks sleeping by each other." Solas said, trying but failing to hold back a yawn, as he pulled her slowly to the bed. "It would not be easy to return to sleeping by ourselves. It is possible, if that is your wish, but I suggest that we figure that out tomorrow. Maybe then, you can tell me how you found this place."

"M'kay." She said sleepily, before sleep claimed them both.

* * *

Hawke sat on one of the benches near the training grounds, making an effort to read the reports of what had been happening while she was gone. She would have preferred Varric's way of it, but as he had also been gone, she was left with Cullen's very dry note taking. She'd nearly fell asleep twice while trying to read them. At least it was sunny out, and it was comforting to hear the sounds of clanging metal. She shot up as she realized what it was that was bothering her.

She had been watching them since she and the others returned, and something wasn't right. It had been a long time since the kiss on the battlements. Surely there should be some sort of public display, a slight peck on the cheek, something! The man acted as if things had never changed, and from the looks of it, he had no idea how much this was hurting Lavellan.

"Bee in your bonnet, Flint?" Varric asked, walking up to her with a grin, knowing she'd seen something she didn't like.

"Place your bets, boys." She replied, mischievously, as she got up to set things in motion.

* * *

"Commander, a word!" Hawke called out, while he was making the recruits run drills.

"Take a break." Cullen shouted. Hawke didn't miss the grateful looks the recruits sent her. "What is it, Hawke? I'm busy."

"I was wondering if we could spar, give these guys something to brag about, you know?" Hawke asked. With Cullen's back turned to his men, Varric made quick work of getting everyone's bets placed. "Show them why you drill them so much."

"Hawke, there isn't time for that." Cullen scolded.

"Sure there is! Boost the morale of your men…Then again, if you think you'll lose…best to give up now. I mean, I am the Champion of Kirkwall, after all." She added. Now there were recruits trying to build him up, shouting for a showdown. "Tell you what. We can make it interesting. I'll even give you something to fight for."

"Hawke, what are you on about now?" Varric asked, giving himself away, and Cullen whirled around and glared at him. Some of the recruits snickered at this.

"Inquisitor, A word!" Hawke called out, seeing her target. When Lavellan was close enough, she whispered. "How much do you trust me?"

"Is this a life and death thing, or a Wing man thing?" Lavellan whispered back.

"Both." Hawke noted, after a few seconds.

"Go for it." Lavellan agreed, with a nod.

* * *

"You should be wary about agreeing to things without knowing the conditions placed on them, Inquisitor." Hawke whispered into her ear, trying to sound very sultry.

"Um…Hawke?" Lavellan asked, confused.

Hawke did not respond, instead, snapping her fingers. Ropes wrapped around Lavellan quickly, and she was tied to a pole. Without knowing what Hawke had planned, it was easy to get herself into a panic, thinking that she had to get herself out. Hawke had taken care of that, it seems, as the rope had been laced with a calming agent. Cullen's eyes went wide, as did everyone's when they realized the implications of what Hawke was doing.

As it stood, she had just taken the Inquisitor hostage, and no one dared to move. Then she remembered what Hawke had said. This was both life and death, and wing man attempts. Crazy though they were, Hawke's wing man attempts got results. Lavellan relaxed further, as understanding dawned on her.

"Oh, relax, Cullen. She's motivation. Something to fight for…or don't you think the Inquisitor is worth fighting for?" Hawke asked, setting him up, grinning wolfishly.

* * *

"Shit! She's out of her mind, yeah?" Sera hissed.

"There is a good chance of that." Solas replied, calmly. "I wonder if this is going to be better or worse than her pretending to be Andraste."

"Well, you lot are the only ones who haven't placed a bet yet." Varric said, sitting with them. "Care to place your bets?"

"They've started fighting already!" Sera exclaimed. "Go get em, Birdy!"

"Come now, Commander, I know you can hit better than that." Hawke teased, as she dodged the man. "Are you worried of what the men will think if you fight too hard for her? Then again, what will they think if you don't fight hard enough?"

"Is Hawke  ** _'helping'_**  again?" Dorian asked, sitting next to them. "Good times."

"I got 8 sov's says she kicks his ass." Blackwall stated. "She seems to be in a right state, that one."

"I'd say she's got it." Sera agreed.

"I don't know. I think the Commander has a shot." Bull said, looking on. "5 sovereigns on him to win."

"Hawke is no warrior." Cassandra chided. "What is she doing, taking on the Commander this way? 8 Sovereigns says he wins the fight."

"I think it's terribly romantic. Don't you?" Leliana said, looking out at the fight. "Look at how she has the Inquisitor. Whether she wins or not, she has a goal in mind." Cassandra looks like she regrets her bet already.

"Too late to change your bet now, Seeker." Varric teased.

"I'm with Sister Nightingale. I believe  _Alhasha_  has a goal in mind." Solas stated, watching the fight. "She may not be a warrior, Seeker, but the way she moves in a fight…is exquisite, which is something I can appreciate now that it is not being directed at  ** _me_ _._ "**

That got snickers from the entire group.

"If you are not fighting for the one you love, Commander, what are you fighting for?" Hawke growled, as she fought. "You might as well concede the fight now!"

"She's bitten off more than she can chew this time." Vivienne said, shaking her head, with a small smile. "She will not win this. 6 sovereigns on the Commander to win."

"Nightingale, you betting?" Varric asked, and the red head shook her head no. "What about you, Chuckles?"

" _Alhasha_  will throw the fight once she hears what she needs to from the Commander." Solas said, shocking the others. "20 sovereigns."

"You think she'll  ** _lose?_**  You're betting that much against your own woman?" Blackwall asked.

"I never said she'd lose." Solas replied with a grin. "I said she'd throw the fight. That implies complete control of the outcome, a manipulation, if you will, Blackwall. She wants to hear the Commander say something, and if he does, she'll throw the fight on purpose so that he can go 'rescue' his woman."

"Well I'll be damned." Blackwall muttered.

"No changing your bet now, Hero." Varric snickered.

* * *

"Well, Commander? Are you not motivated enough?" Hawke teased, and he charged her again. She barely dodged that one. "Oh come on now. Surely you have something else other than those tried and tired old Templar attacks."

"Damn it, Hawke, quit playing." Cullen growled.

"Why? If the Inquisitor were my woman, I don't think I'd hide her away." Hawke accused, dodging him again, only to hit him with two gut shots and dodge again. "I'd show her off, let the men in the barracks make up all the rumours they want about her, because that's all they'd have, while it wouldn't be any of their beds she warmed. Meanwhile, you hide her like she's some dirty little secret, like you're ashamed of her."

"This is not that simple!" He shot back, landing a few hits of his own.

"It is that simple. It's always been that simple." Hawke goaded, then stood straight up. "Why are you even fighting for her?"

"Because I  ** _love_**  her!" Cullen growled, right before he makes his move.

Maybe she should have stopped before she said that, because the next thing she sees is the Commander's fist in her face. The force alone sends her stumbling back a few steps, and she allows herself to fall to the ground on her knees. Cullen is by her side in an instant, but she'll have none of that, and points him to Lavellan. Her nose is bleeding, and she can hear Solas chiding her for her crazy wingman ideas, but that doesn't matter. Right then, all that mattered was that she had done her job, that she could hear Cullen confessing everything to Lavellan.

"Hawke, you're bleeding!" Lavellan exclaimed in alarm, when she gets to her.

"I'm fine. You two go. Planned date. Dorian will explain." Hawke said, with a pained voice, her hand covering her face. "Go. Have a good time. Become a friend fiction or something."

She waited until they were out of earshot to give in to the pain.

"Holy fucking Maker's bleeding nut-sack, that hurt!" Hawke said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Did you have to rile him up like that?" Solas asked, gently, as he sat in front of her.

"How else was I going to get him to confess? That man is as stubborn as a pig headed mule, as if what the guys in the barracks say matters, as if after this war was something that was guaranteed to us all." Hawke stated, as if it were obvious. "His fist has to be made of stone though, damn."

"Here, let me see how bad it is." Solas said, gingerly moving her hand away.

"I can tell by your face that it's bad, if that grimace of yours is anything to go by." Hawke stated, and would have snorted at how he tried to cover it up, except that would have hurt more.

"It really doesn't look that bad." Solas said lightly, looking over it, nodding to Cole as the boy brought over a bucket of water and a rag.

"Blood running down her face, but she smiles." Cole said, quietly. "You're hurting, but it helped. He doesn't want to say it, but it  ** _does_**  look that bad."

"Thanks, Cole." Hawke said, smiling even though it hurt.

"Tell me something,  _Lath'in_." Solas said, with a small smirk as he healed and cleaned her up. "You threw that fight, didn't you."

"If you tell that to the Commander, I'll deny it with my dying breath, Solas, so help me." Hawke warned, with a playful glare.

"Damn it, Chuckles, do you know how much you just…you just…Damn it!" Varric shouted, exasperatedly, throwing his hands up as he walked away.

"What is he so bent up about?" Hawke asked, narrowing her eyes at him in mock suspicion.

"Oh, nothing." He said, with a soft smile, and leaned in and kissed the side of her face. "You just made me a rich elf. I suggest a week or two away from here, perhaps Val Royeaux. We could go and never try the same thing twice."

"I like the sound of that, but do you really think we could get away with it?" She asked, returning the gesture.

"Probably not, but they would be too traumatized to interrupt us ever again." He replied, with a grin. Hawke grinned in return. She definitely liked the sound of that.

* * *

"Do you think she's alright?" Cullen asked, worriedly. "I can't believe I hit her that hard. We were only suppose to be sparring."

"Solas is taking care of her, I'm sure." Lavellan said, laughing when Cullen coughed on his drink.

"Maker's breath, Dhaevira." Cullen said, still coughing.

Their 'planned date' turned out to be Dorian escorting them to a cabin somewhere a few days away, and then leaving with their horses. For all intents and purposes, they were stuck there. Cullen looked mortified when he realized what was going on, but Lavellan just laughed, and he seemed to relax somewhat. She always seemed to be doing that, making him relax when he felt overly worried about something. Sometimes she embarrassed him too, took him out of his comfort zone, but she was always there for him when he needed her. He was having a hard time admitting that it was alright to need someone.

"There's something I should tell you, and I think it will help you not worry so much about Hawke." Lavellan stated, looking a bit sheepish. "Hawke is my wingman."

"Hawke is…your wingman." Cullen said, trying to wrap his mind around that.

"Look. I can own a room of strangers, I can fake being alright to my friends, but for the life of me I couldn't seem to talk to you without sticking my foot in my mouth." Lavellan admitted, blushing. "Hawke saw me one day, and offered to help, said she was good at helping others see what they mean to each other. Her methods are…chaotic, like the fight today."

"The fight today was a wingman thing?" Cullen asked, warily.

"Think about it. She somehow got you to proclaim your feelings for me, in public, and dropped us off in the middle of nowhere long enough for rumours to spread through the barracks. We won't be able to keep this secret any longer if we tried." Lavellan replied, and bit her lip. "I know you value your privacy, but…"

"But me not acknowledging you in public as anything other than the Inquisitor, hurt you, and Hawke saw that when she got back." Cullen realized. "The snowball fight?"

"Pure accident. She'd been pelting Jim with them so we could have time to talk, and 'be awkwardly adorable' as she called it. She gave one of the snowballs to Solas, who threw it and inadvertently hit you." Lavellan chuckled. "She ran with it, and started the snowball fight."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with the rather odd report Jim gave about 'The Voice of Andraste', would it?" Cullen asked, biting the inside of his jaw to keep from laughing.

Lavellan burst out laughing. "Oh, thank the Creators! I can finally tell you about this one. She used a voice projection spell, and tried to stall Jim while we were on the Battlements. She had that boy eating out of the palm of her hand, but you must scare him more than Andraste does, because he risked 'and I quote' 'Pray to the Maker that Commander Cullen doesn't stick his boot up the crack of your ass'."

Suddenly, Cullen couldn't hold it in any longer, and he was laughing just as hard as she was. He had to give Hawke credit. If all of this was to get him to see that him and Lavellan would be good together, he owed her. Maker only knew how many betting rings he had inadvertently been the subject of because of all of this. She really was her own force of nature, that crazy woman.

"I am sorry for hurting you, Dhaevira. I thought you wouldn't want anyone talking about you like that, and I can't even imagine what your clan will think when they hear of this." Cullen said, shaking his head, after they had come down from their laughter. "If they exile you…"

"You worry too much, Cullen." She said, after silencing him with a kiss.

"So I've been told." Cullen chuckles, and the two relax into their 'date' of sorts.

* * *

"Hawke, what are you doing?" Lavellan asked, coming upon Hawke sketching in what looked like one of Solas's sketch books.

"This isn't what it looks like!" Hawke shrieked, scrambling to hide the sketch book before it was seen, only to realize that it was much too late for that. "Oh, alright, it's exactly what it looks like. Just don't tell him, okay? I stole one of his empty sketch books."

"Why?" Lavellan asked, sitting with her now.

"Well…have you seen what Josephine wants us to wear to the Winter Palace?" Hawke asked. Lavellan's cringe was all she needed for an answer. "I'm taking these to her later today. What do you think?"

"Hawke, they're stunning! We're definitely wearing these." Lavellan squealed, as she leafed through the sketches. "Does Solas know that you can draw like this?"

"…Um…Well…you see…I…um…Oh, look at the time. Josephine is expecting me! Got to run, sorry!" Hawke scrambled, leaving rather quickly.

"Hawke, aren't you forgetting something?" Lavellan asked, when Hawke had almost gotten to the door, holding up the sketch book.

" _Etunash_!" Hawke cursed, scrambling back for the sketch book, and then bolted for the door.

Lavellan just chuckled to herself, and said. "I wonder if she had any idea you were standing there. Why would she not want to share those with you?"

"It is unlikely that she knew I was here, as I was here before her." Solas said, stepping out of the little reading nook he'd created. "As far as the sketches go, I can only guess."

"There was something odd, though, now that I think about it." She said, causing Solas to pause. "There were dresses for everyone of us but her. Does she not think she's going?"

"I think she wants the design to be a surprise." Solas replied, with a secretive grin. "This would not be the first outfit she's created as such."

"What do you mean?" Lavellan asked, not remembering any such outfits.

"My apologies, Inquisitor, I believe I may have spoken out of turn." Solas said, before leaving presumable to find Hawke.

"You should know, but it is hard to say. The big wolf and little bird are wary." Cole said, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. "They want to tell you, but you have to ask. The right question gets the right answer. A mission, a past shared, so many secrets."

"It's a secret? So it has to deal with them both? Is this about the mission to get her back? What do the sketches have to do with that?" Lavellan wondered allowed.

"Her first meeting is his second, but memories were taken so neither knew. They are whole now. The pieces fit more closely." Cole said, looking far off. "The howling wolf will always call him home, a song only he can hear."

"Kid, that's cheating." Varric said, getting the boy to walk away with him.

"It's not cheating if I say the same thing to everyone." Cole replied, with a sheepish grin.

"Good point." Varric replied.


	20. Mistakes and an old friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas finds out that he and Hawke are part of a bunch of stories that she has held all her life, technically without knowing she was a part them. He does not take this well, and this becomes yet another mistake he has to work through. Hawke is not without her faults, and refuses any sort of protection detail ideas Solas tries to give her. While everyone else prepares for the Ball at the Winter Palace, they go off on their own.

Chapter 20

Lavellan can not help how her focus is drawn to Solas and Hawke, even as everyone prepares for the Ball at the Winter Palace. They circle each other like wolves, teasing, prowling as they do. The Solas that she knew is a lot different than the one she sees before her now. Solas before was reserved, cautious, and did not speak much unless it was on the state of the Veil. He has changed, opened up more now, openly teasing the woman known as Hawke.

There is a predatory glint in his eyes, but only when he is teasing Hawke. The woman treats him the same way, baiting him, teasing. Her eyes promise mischief, but they always have. At the same time, when they are more alone, there is an unguarded innocence in her eyes, and Solas's demeanor changes. He becomes nurturing, passionate, a fierce protector.

Lavellan overhears him call Hawke  Sulahn'ean, and now she has more questions. That name…something about that name is familiar to her. It could be because Hawke sings while she works on her potions and things for the apothecary, but something Cole said makes her wonder. Hawke would be the little bird, Cole has referred to her as such on more than one occasion, and she does have that howling wolf on her ankle. Solas had been able to go to Hawke, almost as if he had been called, but no one had bothered to think it was because of the mark.

That's right, she had forgotten about that! Solas had made a big deal about that birthmark, had corrected her when she described the Mark of Fen'Harel. Things he said before came back to her now. ' _I had no idea what I was doing when I cast that spell, that it would actually find her. She didn't even exist yet._ ' If Solas could find Hawke through the mark…

 _The howling wolf will always call him home, a song only he can hear_ , that's what Cole had said. Only the creator of the spell would be able to track Hawke with it, and it was known as the mark of Fen'Harel. If Solas created that spell…' _Her first meeting is his second_ ', did that mean that he had met Hawke before? ' _but memories were taken so neither knew_ ', that must mean that he had made himself forget her, but why? What could possibly be so important that someone would willingly forget another?

' _A mission, a past shared, so many secrets.', 'They are whole now. The pieces fit more closely_.' She figured it had to do with the mission. There were things Solas said during that War Room meeting that made a bit more sense if she was correct. He had burst into the room, rambled as he looked over the maps. ' _After_ Mythal _, before the Veil, where was I when…?_ ' None of his ramblings had made any sense at the time, but now?

Now they were pieces of a puzzle. If Solas was…If he was…If she was right, then it would explain why he had asked the questions he had in the War Room that day. If Hawke had stumbled into ancient Arlathan, is that where she could have met him? Is that why he made himself forget? He would have had to, she realized, for everything to play out as it had.

Which means he would have been the one responsible for her trip back, and for getting the mask of Fen'Harel to her, all without memory of having done so. Something of blood, he'd said. There was nothing she could think of that would qualify, unless…Solas did have an intense fascination with nibbling on that woman's neck.  _They want to tell you, but you have to ask. The right question gets the right answer._ ', but what was the right question?

 _'Would she even still want me if she understood what I've done?…'_  Suddenly, Lavellan was scrambling out the door. Josephine hadn't been able to break through her epiphany, but the dress fitting was mostly completed anyway. She hurriedly got dressed, and ran to find Hawke. If she was right, she would find her answers there. If she was right, she would know what questions to ask.

* * *

 "Hawke!" Lavellan called out, surprising both her and Solas out of playing with the Mabari.  ** _That_**  was a thought for another time, she mused.

"Are you alright,  _Lethal'lan?_ " Solas asked, looking concerned.

"Yes, Solas, I…Really, I'm alright." Lavellan said, excitedly. "Hawke! You said your father told stories that were much different than the stories the Dalish tell. Do you have them written down? Were you able to save any of them?"

* * *

 

Hawke smiled widely, like it was the most brilliant thing she had ever heard. She hadn't considered that something she had said out of turn, before any of this had really been understood by her, to play a part in this. She nodded, and reached into her medicine bag. It was one of the few things she kept with her at all times, the stories her father told her. When she handed the book to Lavellan, she didn't let go of it right away.

"Please, take good care of this. Father wrote these down for me, because he knew how much I loved them." Hawke explained, letting her grip loosen on the book.

"I will, Hawke. It's just…I remember a story from when I was little, and I wondered…"Lavellan said, trailing off, slightly blushing. "It wasn't very popular, and Keeper Deshanna tried to dissuade my sense of fancy, but it stayed with me anyway, and it was such a romantic story. I wonder if it's in here too."

"Then who told the story?" Solas asked, confused.

"I'm not certain. He was tall, broad shouldered, no vallas'lin, black hair, blue eyes…" Lavellan said, her voice trailing off as she thought about it. "Actually, Hawke, he kind of reminds me a little of you."

* * *

 "Then I'm certain that your story is in here." Hawke said, with a grin.

"Lath'in?" Solas asked, when Lavellan had left. "She couldn't possibly have meant…"

"She was talking about Father." Hawke said, with a laugh. "I think I know which one she's looking for too. I can't believe I didn't realize it was even in there till now."

Solas just looked at her with confusion, and waited.

She simply smiled, and said. "Ours."

It surprised her when Solas suddenly stood up, and began shouting.

"He  ** _knew!_**  He knew, and he manipulated me, **_us,_** into this. What were we  ** _thinking?"_**  He seemed to come into himself then, calming down just enough to realize what he's just said. _"Alhasha,_ I-"

 ** _"Don't."_** Hawke said, darkly, before stalking off on her own.

* * *

 The Fade…

"Did you know?" Solas asked, looking her father in the eye now. The world around them looked like that little cabin on the hillside in Lothering.

"Of course, I knew. Every Aenorean knew." Malcolm said, calmly, watching Solas pace. "Every Aenorean, every one but Alhasha."

"You manipulated your own daughter?!" Solas asked, incredulous.

"Every parent does to a degree, but I did not manipulate her the way you think." Malcolm shot back, surprising him. "I gave her the information, and left the choices up to her. I told her stories of you and the others, stories that my family has kept for generations.  _Esem or Fen'Harel_  was never one of the stories I told her, but it was in the book, not that she would have known it for what it was at the time. I never got around to telling her what in all the mark meant, just that if she was desperate for help, she could call on you. You try explaining to an 8 year old what a soul mate mark is, and just what that could possibly mean for her future."

"Why didn't-" Solas was going to ask why the man hadn't explained everything to her later, when the landscape shifted into something blight ridden.

 ** _"This_**  is why. The blight destroyed everything, and all of our attentions were diverted to surviving it. I barely kept Carver from running off to join the fighting in Ostagar when that happened, and that was because I watched over him all the time." Malcolm explained, frustrated, as Solas looked over the land. "I barely had time to make that bracelet for Alhasha, before he ran off again and did just what I told him not to do. By the time I got back with him, Templars had found my family, and we discovered Alhasha was resistant to magebane…and to some extent, to the Templars powers as well."

Before Solas could even ask about it, the scene was playing out before him. He watched as teenage girl slowly backed away from Templars, staff raised as her mother pleading with the Templars to let them go. This had to be the sister Bethany, he realized. That is when he noticed the very angry looking 10 year old standing by her mother's side glaring at the Templars. When they struck out with their Holy Smites, Bethany went down, but little Alhasha leaped over her and blew half of them up before they realized they were having their asses handed to them by a prepubescent child.

It was only a matter of time before they realized the magebane did almost nothing to her, and the Holy Smites only gave her a nosebleed. She grinned, her head down as her eye pierced them, looking beyond feral as blood trickled down her face, and they looked upon her with fear. Those that weren't dead, scrambled away from a tiny mage and her mabari. Had they stayed longer, they would have watched Alhasha pass out after a moment. Her father ran to her and her sister, as her brother stood there in guilt, shame, and stubbornness.

When she woke up, she cried. It had been the first time she'd actually seen death, and the first time she'd ever been the cause of it. Her father and mother held her as she cried, and her sister sat with her at night to keep away bad dreams, always telling how much she appreciated that she saved her. Her brother was lost in his guilt, unsure of how to help her, resentful that she had saved the family when it should have been him. There was another Templar attack not long after that, and where little Alhasha had been able to save them before, this time she could not.

The fight before had taken too much out of her. And while a scared teenage boy yelled at his little sister that she should have done more to help, a dying father tried to sooth them both, knowing that she could not. The scene shifted again, and the two siblings glared at one another, as Bethany tried to calm them. All of them watched as the 10 year old girl became the woman that would lead them, as she put on the bracelet her father had hoped she wouldn't have to use. She blamed Carver for their father's death, knowing that if he hadn't run away, they'd both have been there to protect them; He blamed her for their father's death, resenting that she had been able to save them before, but not that time.

"That is why she never knew more about the mark, other than that it could allow Fen'Harel to find her if she needed him. I had not gone to speak with her about it here, because she needed time to grieve." Malcolm said, interrupting Solas's thoughts. "This changes nothing. The events played out as they did. She's realized that she's been in a story of a book she's held all her life, and what did you do? If I had money, I'd bet that you shut her out again. Didn't you?"

Solas didn't answer him. He didn't think he could. Alhasha had been so  _ **happy**_  when she realized what had happened, that she was one of those stories from her father's book that she loved so much. Instead of sharing in her joy, he bolted, throwing accusations of manipulation angrily. When he came to himself again, realizing how it had sounded, she was angry.

Her father shook his head, seeing that he was right. "Please tell me you have never been so foolish as to promise not to hurt her. You're doing a poor job of keeping it, if you did."

"That is not the one I made." Solas replied, with a sigh. "I can't believe I'm about to do this. How does one apologize to their  _nas'falon_  for overreacting?"

"I don't know about the  _nas'falon_  bit, but you could just say 'I'm sorry for being an overreacting idiot'. It probably isn't how you would normally say something, so she's bound to know you mean it, or got advice." An older version of the teenage boy, Carver, said as he was walking up to them. "You've never really been in a relationship before, not one with any real substance anyway, have you?"

"This is not a conversation I am going to have with the family of my  _nas'falon."_  Solas grumbled, turning his head to the side.

"Yeah? Well if you don't come up with something good, she might deny you." Carver replied, with a smirk. "Just because she's your mate or whatever, doesn't mean she has to accept you. If you can't learn to control your temper, she just might deny you, and I know my sister. She'd do it. If there's anyone as stubborn as you, it's her."

"Are  ** _all_**  of you like this?" Solas asked, incredulously.

* * *

 It was in there, the story she had remembered hearing as a child, the story of Fen'Harel and Sulahn'ean. The story began with Fen'Harel creating the mark to find his Nas'Falon, with the others of the pantheon pressuring him into searching for her. Clever one that he thought he was, he created a spell that should not have been able to find someone, because no one person possessed the traits he listed, and he did not wish to be forced into finding someone. Yet not only did she fall out of the sky, she bested his plans to kill her, and turned his world on its ear. Suddenly he was the one being hunted, instead of the one doing the hunting.

She fought with Falon'Din, challenged Elgar'nan, and teased Fen'Harel. The people loved her, and the gods didn't know what to do with her. Fen'Harel found himself drawn in, until finally his stubborn and prideful nature gave way, and the two disappeared for a time. After that, if they were seen anywhere, it was always together. Despite his attempts to keep her at bay, Fen'Harel fell in love with Sulahn'ean.

She was a force of nature in her own right, and did not bow to the whim of the gods. Fen'Harel danced in the flames Sulahn'ean created, the two dancing the night away…But the happiness he'd found was not to last, and the Tevinter Imperium flooded the celebration without warning. Sulahn'ean disappeared, lost to him in an instant. Fen'Harel became a monster, and in his rage he carved a path of death and destruction upon anyone that got in his way.

In all that time, he had been playing nice between the elvhen gods and the forgotten ones. In all of the destruction and chaos, he did not even wait to see if they had made it to their realms. They fled to escape the Imperium they had let in, and Fen'Harel sealed them away for their folly. To ask him to call for his love, and then force him to lose her in order to save what was left of their people, was a price too high for his soul to bear. So, Fen'Harel cast a spell to forget her, and wandered the Fade in Uth'then'era in his rage.

Lavellan read this, and wondered. What was the right question? There were thousands of questions running in her mind now. That couldn't possibly be Solas! But then something else he said flashed in her mind,  _Would she even still want me if she understood what I've done…_ , and suddenly she didn't know what to think.

* * *

 Well, fuck. While he had been in the Fade trying to sort all this out, Alhasha had built a fortress of sorts. She'd had her things moved out of the room she'd been staying in, which worried him, because now she was risking assassins again. He had a plan to apologize, but every time he made to find her, someone always needed him for something. The Commander asked for his help training the soldiers on how to fight rogue mages and such, something Alhasha usually helped him with. Dorian asked him to play chess with him, something else Alhasha liked to do.

It didn't stop with them. Once he was free from one, another would make a bid for his time. Madame De Fer seemed to pick that moment to want to get in a debate with him about the Circle. Seeker Pentagast asked for a review of all of the information he had gathered about the Breach. Varric actually asked him for the information the dalish had denied, citing who better to get that sort of information out there than a writer, even if the world believed it fiction.

Montilyet was constantly coming around asking him questions about his past, anything that could help the Inquisition's image. Sister Nightingale brazenly asked him about the rumours regarding Vael and his rantings about Hawke being Fen'Harel's chosen, stating that she had been informed about what happened at the blockade. The Iron Bull had somehow sidetracked him into a debate about the Qun, and Sera seemed to have found every lizard in all of Thedas just for him. By the time that Lavellan came to see him, he was at his wits end. He was sitting in the rotunda, sipping on the tea he drank to clear his mind, when he heard her come in.

"Something wrong with your tea?" She asked, amused at the face she saw him making when she walked around to face him.

"It is tea. I detest the stuff, but I need to clear my mind. This helps…until it doesn't.  _Lethal'lan_ , I am afraid I would not make for good company right now." Solas said, making a sour face at the tea cup. "If this is Lady Hawke's way of keeping me from her, she no longer has to worry. I will no longer seek her company if she does not wish it."

"What makes you think she doesn't want to see you?" Lavellan asked, sitting across from him at the table.

"These past few days have been ample enough evidence,  _Lethal'lan._  I haven't been able to get near her since this started. She won't talk to me, and doesn't want me to talk to her." Solas stated. "She practically has the entire Inquisition ready to sideline me."

"You two really are alike. It's almost scary." Lavellan commented. "Look, I don't know what happened, but I know she's pretty hurt about it."

"So much so, that she is doing everything to keep me from her." Solas replied, stubbornly.

"Wouldn't you?" Lavellan asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "You didn't think this relationship would be easy, did you? That's kind of part of being with someone who's their own force of nature."

"I wasn't sure what this relationship would be. It covers a wide variety of firsts I had not anticipated." Solas admitted. "I do not know how to apologize if I can not reach her."

"Seriously, Solas? She's making this difficult for you, not impossible." Lavellan said, with a sigh. "Think about it. What's the one place you know she can't block you out?"

When Lavellan left, Cole appeared beside him. Unlike the others, he felt calm around Cole. No matter what went on around him, Cole was always trying to help. It was in his nature, and it was something Solas was in sore need of right now. He was thinking over the advice Lavellan gave him before she left, when Cole finally spoke.

"She feels he wants to make things difficult, so she took it from him, made it difficult instead. He claims he will always find her. Let him." Cole said, and suddenly it clicked what Lavellan was trying to tell him.

So he searched the Fade at night. He alternated between trying to keep his mind occupied, and searching for her, during the day. Even in ancient Arlathan, when he had been a particular ass, she had not been this angry at him. That one sentence had thrown everything into doubt, and now she was making him pay for it. They really were too much alike sometimes.

That made him think. The places he had searched had turned up with nothing, but that was because he was searching everywhere without reason. Where would she feel was the most defendable? She would not go for safe, as safe came with its own brand of trappings. It would be someplace she could defend.

Suddenly, a memory came to mind. 'Tell me of the Arishok's Blade', he'd said. Her body would not have to be in Kirkwall for her mind to create it, and so he searched for Kirkwall in a place it should not be. It sounded simple in his mind, but he didn't know what Kirkwall looked like, had not bothered to go look. At least the dwarf would be happy he was finally going to have to read that book.

So, he read the book. He would never admit this to the dwarf, but it was good, and he learned even more of Alhasha. However, when he searched the Fade again, it had not helped him. He was out of ideas, and all because of four words. What were we thinking?

Just as soon as he thought them, he was standing in front of the Breach. More importantly, she was standing in front of the Breach. However, this time, when she faced him, it was not with a smile. She looked like she had been expecting him, but her eyes were sad, like she expected this to end. When he'd asked that question, he hadn't been thinking, and it was too late to take it back.

* * *

 "It took you long enough." She said, as she made her way to him.

"I got sidetracked by The Tales of the Champion. I thought maybe you would go somewhere defendable, somewhere you had already defended, but I had no idea what Kirkwall looks like." Solas admitted, as he made his way to her. "I asked myself, finally, what were we thinking, and found myself here. You hid within a question, something I have never seen done before."

"You read Tales of the Champion to try to find me? Does Varric know?" She asked, almost lightheartedly.

"It was not the first thing I tried, and no. He does not know I've read it." Solas replied. "I did learn a few things I probably should have known already, but that is neither here nor there."

Hawke sat down on something that looked like it had been a stone wall at one point. Whatever he was about to say had better be good, and from the looks of things, he knew it. However, from the looks of things, words were failing him. It wasn't something she saw often. He sat by her side, the two were silent for a time.

"I sought council with your father, after I reacted to the book." Solas said, not looking at her yet. "He showed me why he could not have manipulated you, like I thought he had. I  ** _had_**  accused him of it. What he showed me  ** _shamed_**  me,  _Lath'in_ , and I sought to apologize to you. You reacted with instant happiness at our story being remembered well enough to be written down. I should have shared in that, instead I…" He sighed. "I do not know where you are in the waking world, but please come back. We do not have to stay together, if you do not wish it, but I need to know you are alright."

"Answer the question. What were you thinking? I know what  ** _I_**  was thinking. I  ** _thought_**  I knew what you were thinking, but…" Hawke replied, not wanting to forgive him so easily. He had to learn his words could hurt, damn it!

"Clearing my mind is never going to be a possibility around you. That horrid tea doesn't work anymore regardless." Solas replied, immediately, turning slightly to face her. She doesn't know whether to be amused or insulted, not yet. "You were ethereal, and I could not understand how you could be two kinds and exist as you are. Cautious and humble, tall and proud. I knew your father was right, the moment I saw you there. I loved you already."

"Why didn't you just  ** _say_**  that?" Hawke exclaimed, a little frustrated. Damn it, now she really wanted to forgive him. He mumbled something, and it surprised her both that she couldn't pick up on it, and that he actually mumbled. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

* * *

 "This is the first serious relationship I have ever been in. Anything before you has been  ** _meaningless_ _._ "** Solas blurted out, more than a little frustrated. He had kind of hoped to be forgiven by now, but now the confessions wouldn't stop, and they came out like word vomit. "Becoming an Evanuris for me was time consuming, and I was rather singularly focused till I achieved it. Elgar'nan suggested a party to celebrate, and it was all meaningless sex and a  ** _lot_**  of alcohol. I'm actually amazed we didn't die of alcohol poisoning, even with the newly acquired immortality we had achieved for our people."

"So, you're telling me that you're a horndog that's never had a serious relationship before, and you get saddled with the clueless virgin who has  ** _also_**  never had a serious relationship before." Alhasha groaned, embarrassment radiating from her. "No wonder you run."

"As a wolf, I resent being called a dog of any kind." Solas teased, trying to get her out of her embarrassment.

"If the shoe fits." She replied, without missing a beat.

"I run, because what you represent  _ **scares**_  me,  _Lath'in._ " Solas admitted, past caring that he hadn't meant to say any of these things, and stole a quick kiss. "You are more than everything I have ever wanted, so much more than the things listed in the spell to find you, and I felt that I could not allow myself that happiness, not when I have been the cause of so much pain and death. You refuse to allow me to delude myself into the singular focus it would take to rip apart the Veil, because you want…( _steals another kiss_ ) You want me to be  ** _happy_ ,** and I fight you on that, because I don't  ** _deserve_**  to be happy. You deserve someone who can give you everything, someone who can give you a peaceful life."

He seemed very addicted to stealing kisses from her now.

" _Lath'in_ , I  ** _watched_**  as that little girl you use to be fought eight templars on her own, not because she thought she could, but because it was either that or die there. That wild little thing killed five of them before the others got wise and left, and I am certain even they still tell stories of you.  ** _That_**  is what your father showed me, the true reason you fight like the vanguard, the reason he wasn't able to tell you everything the mark meant." Solas said, before she could protest, and stole another kiss. "I can not give you the little cabin on the hillside. I can not give you that peaceful life. But I  _ **am**_  selfish enough to want to take the happiness that you offer me, to want to be the one that makes you happy in return. I am  ** _tired_**  of fighting you,  _Lath'in_ , tired of fighting against my own happiness. If it is within my power, I would give you anything."

"You really go all out on the apologies, don't you." She wondered, with a slight smile, right before he stole another kiss.

"You seem to go 'all out' as you say, to make sure that I earn that forgiveness." He replied, grinning just a touch now. " _Sathan, vegara, Alhasha_."

**_Please, come back, Alhasha_ **

She grinned at him. That wolfish grin that use to infuriate him, had become one that he looked forward to seeing. As long as she looked at him like this, there was hope for him, no matter how many times he stumbled through. She was kissing him before he had even registered that she'd moved, and he could not help but smile into it. He did not deserve the forgiveness that she gave, but he'd be foolish to refuse it now.

" _Vana manean._ " Alhasha replied, with a grin, when she pulled away from the kiss. "I never left."

**_Silly fish_ **

* * *

A few days later…

She'd heard the fighting before she saw them, though this was nothing like the first one. This time, it was Hawke that raged. Solas, on the otherhand, stood there as if he had all the patience in the world. That was the thing, when Solas thought he was right, no amount of passionate argument could sway him. Even a force of nature such as Hawke could not shake him at times.

When Hawke threw her hands up and left, Lavellan walked up, and asked. "Trouble in paradise?"

"What is it about Fereldan's that make them think they can do everything on their own?" Solas asked, sounding much angrier than he appeared.

"I'm not entirely certain." Lavellan sighed, in shared frustration. "It took the fall of Haven before Cullen would ask for help, and he went to Hawke instead of me. It took everything I had not to confront him about it when I found out. I know he views asking for help as some kind of weakness, that I might see him as less than he is for needing it, and he and Hawke have a history we will never share in, but I still wish he would trust me to see that he was strong enough to ask for help."

"So…let me see if I understand this correctly…because I want to make sure she is protected…I have insulted her?" Solas asked, with a sigh, trying to piece it together. "Again?"

"Most likely she thinks that because you want her protected, you think she can not protect herself." Lavellan replied, shaking her head. "That isn't the case at all, I know, but Hawke was taught to be self reliant at a very young age. She had to be, from what Varric tells me. You may have to word it differently, before she'll realize what you actually meant. I would suggest waiting till she calms down before you try that though."

"Maybe we should start a support group." Solas suggested, off handedly, a small smirk on his face.

"Excellent idea." Lavellan giggled. "We can call it, 'For Those Who Love Fereldans'."

"Someone mind telling me why Flint is in The Herald's Rest muttering about 'That damned overprotective 'Uva bar'? What does that even mean anyway?" Varric asked, walking up to them. Solas sighs, and Lavellan giggles.

" _Uva'bar_  translates to 'egg head'." Lavellan supplied, unable to hold in her giggles, as she points to Solas. Varric descends into laughter as well.

"She refuses  ** _any_**  means of protection, or the various safeguards I have suggested. She won't even accept Fenris as being her personal bodyguard, and I asked him to suggest that one instead so she wouldn't think it was my idea. I assumed she would object to anything I suggested, and hoped a suggestion from another source would be welcome." Solas stated, frustrated. "Instead, she shut out all suggestions, saying she didn't need protecting. I am out of ideas. What would you suggest?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe go as her escort? You know, like a date?" Varric suggested, sarcastically. "I know for a fact you didn't plan on going to this, and now that you know she is, you're flipping out trying to figure out how to protect her without going."

"Ohhhh,  ** _that's_**  what she was on about this morning!" Lavellan realized, and smacks Solas up the back of the head. "She has a dress she's created for herself, and she wanted you to see it when we go to  _Ha'lam'shiral._  When she found out you weren't going, she shut down and walked out."

"Thank you, Lightning, I'm not tall enough to smack him like that." Varric huffed. "I'm assuming that's about the time you found her, and started suggesting security measures."

"You know…you could always surprise her." Lavellan suggested. "We can still get you fitted for one of the outfits like the other men will be wearing. It's not too late."

"Alright, but I can not walk in wearing it. I would actually suggest that I go as a serving man. It will allow me access to places no one else can get to, information, things of that nature." Solas suggested. "Later, I can change into this other ensamble."

"No dice. You go in the fancy outfit. You could still slip into the servants places without notice if you wanted. I've seen your presence switch from unassuming, to commanding, and back again in no time flat." Lavellan said, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Very well,  _Lethal'lan._ " Solas replied, with a ghost of a smile on his face. "Now that I have been properly chastized, I shall go apologize to  _Alhasha_ …again…That seems to be a habit of mine as of late."

"How long have you known?" Lavellan asked, when she was sure Solas was gone.

"Long enough to know you're fishing for confirmation on your own theory." Varric replied, without missing a beat. "Lightning, whatever you think it is, just ask them. There's parts of it I'm still trying to process, and I've known for months now."

* * *

 Solas had left without warning, but he had Lavellan with him, so she tried not to worry. Hawke decided though that if he could go off on his own, without a word, then so could she. So, she packed some provisions, made sure of the time frame for the ball at the winter palace was still a long way off, and left. No one thought to stop her, considering it looked like she was just taking a leisurely stroll. She even took Biscuit with her this time.

The young mabari pup was getting bigger now, and they had been working on training him early. Biscuit loved her wolf form too, snuggling into her at night. They would be in their destination before Solas got back from his trip, of that she had no doubt. Her only concern was seeing how much distance she could get before he figured out what she was doing. Because if he knew what she was doing, he would be angry at her.

Lothering looked just as desolate as she had expected, but even so, she had hoped that it would have healed even a little during all the time she was gone. She came upon what was left of her old house. From the outside, she could already see that it was being worked on. It didn't look anything like it had, but it was livable. For a moment, Hawke hesitated, but then shook her head and knocked on the door.

"Who's there?" The man called out, before even opening the door. When he saw her standing there, he just gawked at her. "Hawke!"

"Hello, Anders." She replied, with a smirk.


	21. The Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well if he can do it, I can too......not the best argument to stand on, but Hawke did, so when Solas finally makes it back from his panic induced trip, Hawke is gone. Hawke is on a mission of her own, one she swore she'd make good on, to free Anders from Justice. Solas chases after her, because danger follows her whether she goes looking for it or not, and finds that she's in more danger than she's even aware of. Red lyrium, Vael's men, which will get to her first?

**Tiny little lime warning, only because if i don't say anything, I'm sure it will come back to bite me lol**

Chapter 21

"Thank you for coming with me,  _Lethal'lan._ " Solas said, breaking the comfortable silence that they had existed in.

"You're my friend, Solas." Lavellan stated, comforting. "Of course, I'd try to help you if I could."

"Then why are you nervous around me now? What has changed?" He asked, seeing no reason to beat around the bush about it.

"I'm trying to figure out what the right question is." She admitted, surprising him.

"That would explain why you have been quiet on this trip, I suppose, but not why you are hesitant around me, nor would it explain why you keep an equal distance around me now." Solas pointed out, with a slight frown. "Whenever I move, you move the exact opposite, as if you are afraid I will touch you. Tell me,  _Lethal'lan_ , have I done something to make you fear me?"

"No?…Yes?…Maybe?…I don't know. It's all so confusing in my head." She said, rambling in her nervousness. "I've kind of had the wind knocked out of me, and I'm trying to find my feet again. Does that make any sense?"

"I suppose." Solas said, with a slight frown, pondering something for a moment. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Cole's hint, would it?"

"A bit." Lavellan admitted, nervously. "I just need time to figure out what it is I want to ask. I get why Cole calls Hawke little bird, but why does he call you big wolf?"

Solas couldn't help but smile at that, as he replied. "Is that your question,  _Lethal'lan_?"

* * *

"Hawke, what are you even  ** _doing_**  here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, but after everything that happened in Kirkwall, I didn't think you'd ever want to talk to me again." Anders stated, before realizing that he was rambling. "Do you want to come in?"

"Actually, Anders, you need to pack. Like, right now." Hawke said, very business like. "We've got a lot of ground to cover before nightfall. So, haul ass."

"What do you mean?" Anders asked, already heading inside to do just as she'd stated.

"I mean I've found a way to really separate you and Justice." She replied. "What do you know of the Avvar?"

"Not much, they keep to themselves mostly." Anders replied, as he packed. "What's with the mini mabari?"

"Oh. Biscuit, meet Anders. Anders, meet Biscuit." Hawke introduced them.

"Sorry I don't have anything prepared, or I'd give you something." He said to the Mabari. "Friends anyway?" He laughed when the pup barked once in affirmation, and looked to Hawke. "I take it BarkSpawn…"

"Saved my life while I was trying to save his." She finished, looking pained.

"Hawke, I'm sorry." Anders said, not knowing what to say now. "Well, I'm ready whenever you are."

"Good, because we need to cover a  ** _lot_**  of ground before he figures out I've fled the coup as it were." Hawke said, quickly, and turned around to leave.

"I'm sorry? Who's  ** _he_**  exactly?" Anders asked, quickly walking to catch up to her.

"Oh, I have so much to tell you, Anders." Hawke said, laughing as they went.

"This is going to be good, isn't it?" Anders remarked, with a slight smile. "I really have missed you…Hey…Have you done something to your hair?"

* * *

She just started laughing, which must have thrown him off. Oh, there was so much to explain to him. So, she started off with an apology, and explained about the bracelet that she'd worn to make herself look older. The look on his face as he realized he'd tried to make out with an underage girl was near comical, but she didn't laugh. She talked about meeting Solas, and the events that unfolded after that.

Hawke was very careful not to reveal who he was, but she had a feeling Anders knew that she was holding a secret again. He had always been able to tell that, more so when it was one she really wanted to tell. Anders actually laughed when Hawke told him all of the shenanigans BarkSpawn pulled to get the stubborn elf to not ignore her. By the time that she was finished with her stories, even though she'd had to leave a lot of it out, they had begun to make their way to the foot of the Frostback Mountains. From there, they would journey to the Avvar. Maybe it showed in how quickly she was trying to get them to move, or how she kept looking over her shoulder from time to time, but Anders watched her more intently as the evening wore on. Finally, he had them stop, even though Hawke wanted to continue traveling in the darkness.

"Hawke, we can't do this. I can't see in the dark as well as you can." Anders huffed, stopping at the entrance to a cave he'd found. "What is it that has you so rattled? Is it that guy your seeing now? Solas?"

"Yes, and no." Hawke admitted, before going to light a fire. "Solas is going to be angry when he discovers that I'm gone, but only because he wants to keep me safe. Vael hasn't exactly stopped his assassination attempts, but it's more than that now, and I can't tell you all of it. It's not just my secret."

"It's his too, this Solas of yours." Anders reasoned out, and she nodded. "We both know how you are about secrets."

"Thanks for understanding, Anders." She said, gratefully.

* * *

Solas had been gone for much longer than he had originally planned, by more than a few weeks at least, and he was hurriedly making his way back. After killing the weak mages that had trapped his friend Wisdom, he had wandered off alone, telling Lavellan to return without him. As emotionally tumultuous as Solas had been at the time, he knew that he should not be around others, especially Alhasha. He had tried finding her in the Fade to let her know, but she hadn't been sleeping much lately, no doubt angry at him for not telling her he was leaving in the first place. He knows he should have told her before he left, that she would understand the need to help a friend, but the time for that had passed.

When he got back to Skyhold, Solas felt a sense of calm wash over him. It felt good to be back. He had missed this place, and had missed Alhasha. It was strange that he could not find her now, and the sense of calm became one of wariness. He'd expected her to march up to him as soon as he got there, and yell at him for his leaving. Something was off, but he reasoned that it was just that Alhasha had hidden herself away, making herself harder to find, because she was  _that_  mad at him. It wasn't like this would be the first time she'd done so.

But after searching everywhere he could think of to hide, he had come up with nothing. Either Alhasha was gone, or she did not want to be found. The more time that went by, the more he began to wonder. Had Vael found a way to take her while he had been gone? Just then, he happened upon a conversation, and hid himself away before they could see him.

"You mean no one has seen Hawke, **_at_   _all_ _?_**  How is that even possible?" Fenris asked, sounding worried. "She's hasn't gone to any of the outposts?"

"No, I've checked. All the ravens came back with the same reply." Sister Nightingale replied calmly. "She's just gone."

"Guys, someone said Solas arrived a little while ago. He's already started searching for Flint." Varric stated, casually walking up to them. "How long do you think we have before he realizes she's not here?"

* * *

"I'd say not long at all, master Tethras." Solas replied, coolly.

"He's standing right behind me, isn't he?" Varric asked, with a sigh. Fenris and Leliana both nodded. Resigning himself to his fate, he turned to face Solas, but instead of the angry god like wrath he was expecting to face, he saw a man worried and beside himself. "Chuckles…"

"What. Happened?" Solas demanded.

"She just left, Chuckles. It looked like she was going on a walk with Biscuit, and no one thought to check." Varric stated, resigned.

"When?" Solas asked. Varric was surprised the elf wasn't trying to kill him yet.

"A day or so after you left." Varric revealed. That sent Solas to pacing back and forth.

"Where would she have gone? Was she threatened to leave discretely? Would anyone have even noticed that?" Solas asked, thinking over things. "Where was the last place she was seen?"

"The Inquisitor was the last to speak with her that we have been able to verify, and she informed me that Hawke had come to her and asked about the Avvar." Leliana stated. "Something specific about them…She asked about the Augur, their mages, and how they release spirits that are unwilling to leave the host body."

"Anders." Fenris realized. "She's gone to Anders, now that she knows she can help him."

"She would risk **_that_ _?_   _Now?_** " Solas asked, looking to Fenris.

"Like you have to ask." Fenris scoffed. "Of course she would risk that now."

* * *

He didn't think Hawke had noticed yet, but Anders was sure someone was following them. They only showed up at night though. He only ever caught glimpses of them before they were gone. He hadn't told her either, because it already looked like she was under enough strain. She didn't need to have another worry to add to it all.

Each day, the man seemed closer and closer to camp. Anders started faking sleep, in an effort to catch this man that was following them. After a week, his efforts finally paid off, or so he thought. When he noticed the man, he was already in camp! It was no wonder he couldn't track him, what with being able to move that fast.

The elven man was putting a blanket over Hawke and the Mabari pup. All at once, Anders felt like he was intruding on a very private moment. That thought was only affirmed when the man kissed Hawke's forehead, and brushed the hair out of her face. This must be the man she was with now, the one she was hoping wouldn't discover she was gone till she was on her way back. The moment Anders realized this, the man turned to face him, unsurprised to see him awake.

"Are you even aware of the danger she has placed herself in just to help you?" The elven male asked, quietly, an edge to his voice that was low and commanding.  _Andraste's blessed nipple ring, but this guy was scary as fuck._ "Of course,  _Alhasha_  would choose not to mention that. She is in danger no matter where she is, or what she's doing, but she is in the most danger she has ever been in, and  ** _you_**  are completely unaware of it."

* * *

Anders tried to keep calm, but he could feel Justice demanding to be let out, to fight the threat presented to him. Yet, despite how angry this man looked, Anders had the distinct impression that this elven man was not angry at  ** _him_ _._**  He had the look of a man in extreme desperate worry. The way he looked back to Hawke was very telling. He was worried for  ** _her._**

"Just how much danger is she in?" Anders found himself asking.

"Besides the blinding white hot hatred of several countries thanks to you?" Solas asked, arching an eyebrow at him. Anders nodded, again feeling the guilt of having thrown her into that position in the first place. "What do you know of Sebastian Vael?"

"Sebastian? He'd been a friend for years, till I blew up the Chantry, that is. He threatened to invade Kirkwall, and then Hawke punched him square in the face, and stalked off to defend the mages that were in danger due to me." Anders replied, looking confused.

* * *

Jagged blue lines flickered all over him, but there was no lyrium in his skin like Alhasha had. The spirit was close to the surface then, Solas reasoned. It didn't seem to be something the mage could control anymore, though he was trying. This was the friend Alhasha was trying to help, but Solas was uncertain he could be helped now. He wondered if the spirit sensed how dangerous he was, and was trying to protect its host.

"Listen to me very carefully, Anders. Vael's men are trying to reach her as we speak." Solas stated, intent on him knowing just how serious this was. "They know that she is traveling through these mountains, and they know that she is with you. If they can, they will kill you, and take her to Starkhaven to be Vael's trophy queen. You  ** _can_   _not_**  let this happen. If it means your  ** _life_ ,** you must defend her with everything that you are. If you  ** _fail_**  in this, there will be no place you can go that I can not track you. Not even death will save you from me. Is that understood?"

"What aren't you telling me?" Anders asked, suspicious of him. Good. He would need that.

"A great many things." Solas admitted, looking back to Alhasha. "Would your knowledge of these things help you defend to her any better? Would your fear of what I am help you to keep her alive?"

"That is not why I asked." Anders replied. "I need to know that you won't hurt her. She has been put through enough, especially by those she calls her friends, including me."

"I will tell you this then, foolish  _shem'len._   ** _Who_**  I am is not as important as what I will do to you should she die.  ** _What_**  I am is not as important as what she means to me. She is my  _Lath'in,_  my  ** _Nas'falon,_**  and though she is in danger simply by being with me, I will do everything I can for her." Solas stated, walking towards Anders, inwardly enjoying how the man's eyes got bigger with each step he took. "Know that your betrayal is  ** _nothing_**  compared to my own, and that while you may have destroyed a  ** _city_**  in an effort to free the mages, I destroyed a  ** _civilization_**  to free a people, to save my  _Lath'in,_  and they rightly call me the great betrayer for it. I am  _Fen'Harel,_  and  ** _you_**  protect my chosen _._  Be at peace, Anders, for if she can forgive me my trespasses, surely she has already forgiven you yours."

* * *

Morning…

"Hawke, we need to talk." Anders said, in seriousness, when he noticed that she was awake. _Well, fuck_ , she thought,  _this can't be good_. "When you told me this Solas of yours would be angry that you had risked your life again, you may have failed to mention just  ** _how_**  angry he would be."

"Fuuuck. What did he tell you?" Hawke asked, hesitantly, her mind buzzing with thousands of possibilities. "Scratch that. What did he  ** _do_**  to you?"

"Fen'Harel…"  _Oh shit, this_ ** _was_** _going to be bad_ , she thought as he took a breath to continue. "Of all the things I ever imagined happening in my life, being threatened to protect you with my life by an ancient elven god was not on the list."

"He  ** _told_**  you about that?" Hawke asked, surprised.

"That wasn't the first thing he told me, but holy fucking shit, Hawke. How in Andraste's bleeding nethers did  ** _that_**  happen?" Anders replied, still reeling from the shock he'd received. "According to him, Sebastian's men are out to kill me, no surprise there, and make you his trophy queen, though he didn't say anything in detail about that. Then he threatened me within an inch of my life, and that you are his lath'in…his nas'falon, and that I had better protect you or there's nowhere I can run to that will keep me safe. Now, I know I don't know a lot of elvish, but I know what nas'falon means. Tell me I dreamed all that. How, in all of Thedas, did you catch the eye of an elvhen god?"

"I'm guessing he didn't explain anything after that." Hawke replied, wishing for once that Solas had tempered his flare for the dramatic.

"No, he just said all that, and vanished as if he'd never been here at all." Anders said, still not over the shock of it all.

"Alright, I suppose I should start from the beginning." She replied, and so she did.

* * *

As they moved further up the mountain, Anders began having more and more trouble keeping Justice at bay. Blue veins sparked up on his skin from time to time, much the same way Hawke's lyrium lines did. It was easier to bear when he focused on her. Makers breath, she was beautiful…and apparently now over 8,000 years old…technically…sort of. He wasn't sure how that worked exactly, not that that hadn't been an interesting conversation to have, and he thought about that as they continued to make their way.

Fen'Harel, who he was to call Solas in front of everyone else, had called her Alhasha. Hawke had had to explain what that meant, and that it was her given name, one that only Fen'Harel was able to use. She certainly seemed to embody the word, wild, from her eyes, to her hair, to the way she stood. She'd explained about the mark on her ankle being the way Fen'Harel could find her. Since Fen'Harel had so blantantly told him who he was, Hawke was able to tell him everything.

It explained that mask of hers at any rate. The thing made her look all the more wild for it, the black fur mingling with her ink black hair, her blue eyes all the more vibrant because of it. She'd gone over events that he hadn't even realized had happened, though he was aware of the Breach. It could be seen from all over Thedas. He wanted to scream in outrage over that, but he also knew that was mainly Justice screaming to be let to the surface again.

He also felt shamed, because Hawke was still trying to clean up the mess that he had created for mages. Learning the real reason why Sebastian was after her had not helped him keep his equilibrium. That someone would try and…he couldn't think about it without giving Justice more ground to break through, and Justice didn't recognize friend from foe anymore. It helped that Hawke talked about the day to day things, and Anders was certain that Varric had at least a dozen bets going about her and Solas. Commander Cullen being a part of the Inquisition surprised him though, as Anders had thought he would have stayed in Kirkwall to help rebuild the city.

The Avvar were a fascinating people, he could see that much. Hawke walked around as if she belonged there. Here she let the wolf skull mask be visible all the time, and she spoke in the same manner they did. First, they had to speak to some woman called a Thane, leader of this particular Avvar tribe. Here, they called her 'Daughter of the Sky'. That seemed fitting, what with her being a Hawke and all.

* * *

This time, when he showed up in camp, things were different. They had made it to the Avvar, something he was  _very_  thankful for. While Solas was not sure the Avvar could withstand the full might of Vael's men, he would not discount them either, considering that they had given the Inquisitions men a run for their money. Something troubled him though, Alhasha was alone. She sat by a small fire, as if waiting for him.

"Where is he?" Solas asked, walking up to her, keeping his voice calm.

He was angry, worried, and more scared than he had been since the events of Haven. Why couldn't she have just listened to him for once, and stayed where she was? Did she even realize how much danger she had put herself in, how much she worried him now? Did she not understand how important she was to him, how much he actually needed her? Had he not expressed that enough?

"With the Augur. I am not permitted to be there during." She replied, though her voice held an edge to it. She was angry at him too then. "You  _ **threatened** _ my friend."

" _Alhasha,_  I found you asleep, with only him and Biscuit for company, unknowingly surrounded by Vael's men. So, **_yes,_** I threatened your friend." Solas ground out. This caught her attention at least, and she looked up at him. "You should be thankful that I chose to trust him at all,  _Alhasha_ , because the only other option was death. Had I any suspicion that he was a danger to you, I  ** _would_**  have killed him."

"That does not mean I am not angry about it." She said, as she walked up to him. "And it is  ** _you_**  who should be thankful that you chose to trust him. Had you killed him,  ** _we_**  would not be speaking at all."

With that, she walked past him. Rather, she attempted to walk past him. At the last moment, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, turning her to face him. Whatever it was she was going to say was swallowed up by the searing kiss Solas pressed her with. In it, he poured every emotion he'd been feeling since he realized she'd left Skyhold nearly alone.

"I  ** _am_**  sorry that I left without telling you." He said, resting his forehead against her own. She had vanished the mask when he'd grabbed her wrist. "I thought I had to hurry away, that if I got there quickly enough, I would be able to save my friend."

"I understand." She said, quietly. "You should have too." He backed his head away just enough to look into her eyes.

"You have no idea how close you came to being captured,  _Alhasha_." Solas replied, closing his eyes as he shook his head. "I had to act quickly. They had loosely surrounded your camp, and were closing in when I found you. I did not mean to threaten your friend, but discovering that even  ** _he_**  did not realize the danger you were in was too much. It does not always need to be  ** _you_**  that walks into danger,  _Lath'in_."

She took his hand then, and brought him to sit by the fire. She might still be angry at him, he knew, but at least she understood why he had reacted that way now. They did not talk for some time, content to hold and be held. He found himself running his fingers through her hair with one hand, running his fingers over her knuckles as he held her hand with the other. Alhasha simply rested her head on his shoulder, sometimes kissing along his neck and jawline.

"Were you able to save your friend?" She asked, cutting through the silence that had surrounded them.

"No. By the time I got there, it was already too late, though I did not realize it at the time." He replied, gravely. "Mages, either too weak or too ignorant to defend themselves, tried to summon a spirit through the Veil and into a dead host body. They wanted something that could protect them. They caught my friend Wisdom instead. They bound it, and ordered it to kill, twisting its purpose. I had hoped that getting rid of the binding would return it to itself, but I had to…In the end, Wisdom asked to be set free."

"I'm sorry." Alhasha said, and he knew she meant it.

"One of them  ** _actually_**  claimed to be the foremost  ** _expert_**  on spirits from the Circle in Kirkwall, and the fool had the  ** _gall_**  to lie about what he had done. There were so many other things they could have done to defend themselves, but they chose weakness, and now they are  ** _dead._ "** Solas stated, only a hint of the anger he had felt that day leaked through. "I was angry, and I would have lashed out. I did not want to risk lashing out at you, not again…( _with a small smile, he adds_ )…Besides, your father would have never let me hear the end of it. As it is, Carver has even taken to making sure I treat you well."

"Damn straight." Alhasha replied, with a smirk, but then it faltered. "If I could have stopped the chantry exploding in Kirkwall, they wouldn't have been out on the roads. They wouldn't have-" He stopped her with a kiss.

" _Lath'in_ ,  ** _no_."**  He said, once he'd stopped the kiss. "What matters is that they are beholden unto no one but themselves now,  _Alhasha_ , and must come to terms with what that means.  _ **They**_  are responsible for their choices, and they chose poorly. You can not hold yourself responsible for them all. Besides, even though my friend is gone, the spirit will return in some form or other in time. Most likely, it will not remember me, but it is comforting to know that I may yet see them again. It will be a new friend to know."

* * *

He couldn't believe it. He had spent so long bonded to Justice, that now it felt like his mind was empty, but they were free. They were truly free. It felt kind of lonely, now that he was without Justice, but he felt more at peace now than he had in a long time. After thanking the Augur, Anders made his way back to Hawke.

**Suggestive lime? Warning thingy**

Morning was slowly creeping across the mountain, which was the only reason Anders was able to see at all. So when he almost reaches camp, he still isn't sure he's really seeing what he's seeing. He has seen Hawke be flirty and playful, but he has  ** _never_**  seen her like this. She has Solas pinned against a tree with what he assumes is some kind of force spell while she nibbles at the elven man's neck. Solas jerks when she begins to caress the shell of his ear, and only then does Anders remember that their ears are supposedly really sensitive to touch.

The pleasure filled groan is all Anders needs to confirm that particular theory. Not that he's any stranger to foreplay or sex, but this is Hawke doing these things to someone, not some junior enchanter with her robes up to her hips. She's Hawke, probably the best friend he's ever had, and he should not be here seeing them like  ** _this_ _._**  Solas gasps, and though Anders can't see what her other hand is doing, he isn't sure he wants to know. As it is, he should probably find some way to announce himself so that they have time to stop and pretend like they aren't doing…what they're doing.

" _Sa-Sathan…Sathan, Alhasha…lasa'em dera'na._ " Solas pleads through the gasps, his hands twitching at his sides. Anders knows a little elvhen, only because Hawke and Merrill were relentless in trying to teach it to him. It takes him a little while to work through old memories to translate that.

**_Please…Please, Alhasha, let me touch you._ **

" _Tel sule Ar dirtha._ " Hawke replied, with a tone that he has  ** _never_**  heard her use before. He knows, without really knowing, what she's said. Her tone of voice said everything translations couldn't.

**_Not till I say._ **

" _Sa-Sathan, Alhasha!…Ar…Ar shor'tel ro-rosa la'min…lasa'em dera'na…Sa-Sathan._ " Solas pleads again, gasping as he looked up at the sky. " _Sa-Sastrahnen…Ar shor'te…sastrahnen…_ "

Anders thanked his lucky stars that he couldn't translate all of that. He wasn't sure he wanted to think about Hawke doing things like this with someone  ** _ever_**  again. After that, Solas was reduced to gasps and moans, completely lost in whatever pleasure he was experiencing. Anders is still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Fen'harel, and thus the rest of the supposed elven patheon, is real. He can't seem to make his mind wrap around the fact that his friend can make the ancient elvhen god beg.

**End of suggestive lime thingy**

Unable to take it anymore, Anders began making obviously heavy footstep noises. He just walked along hoping that, by the time he actually made it to them, he would look as if he hadn't seen them. However, when he actually did make it to camp, Solas was gone. Anders couldn't stop himself from looking around for the elven man. Hawke saw what he was doing, and grinned.

"He woke up." Hawke said, mischievously.

"He…woke up?" Anders asked, not following.

"You were wondering where he went." She replied, knowingly. "He woke up."

"You mean,  ** _that's_**  how he finds you?" Anders asked, unable to help himself, and then bursts out laughing. "I can imagine the teasing he's going to get for this."

"Why, Anders, I'm surprised at you." Hawke said, feigning shock. "I never pegged you as one that liked to  ** _watch_ _._ "**

He's never blushed harder in his life than he does at this moment.

* * *

_Sathan, Alhasha…Ar shor'tel rosa la'min…lasa'em dera'na…Sathan –_ **_Please, Alhasha…I will not last like this…let me touch you…please_ **

_Sastrahnen…Ar shor'te…sastrahnen… **-**_ **_Anything…I will do…anything…_ **

* * *

Meanwhile, Solas is dealing with a similar issue. That night was not suppose to turn into what it did, and he had not thought to cast the silencing spells around his tent. The minute he'd stepped out, they'd all started laughing. Iron Bull, Varric, and Sera couldn't seem to help themselves. While Sera could not translate what he'd said in his sleep, if he had said anything, Iron Bull certainly could.

"You have  ** _got_**  to tell us what she did, Shiny." Sera said, through her snickering. "We've got bets."

"On  ** _this_**  too?" Solas asked, with a tired sigh.

"I told you, nothing is sacred when it comes to betting, Chuckles." Varric replied with a grin. "Don't worry, I don't need you to translate this time."

"I spoke in my sleep... ** _again."_**  Solas said, with a groan.

"It's not that bad, Solas, begging is part of the fun." Iron Bull said, nonchalantly. The group decended into laughter again.

"You're just mad that she isn't a red head, or else you'd be after her too." Solas retorted, and the group laughed at that. "I hate all of you for this…She… _Fenedhis_!…She had me pinned up against a tree with a force spell. I refuse to tell you what she did after that."

"Wait. She used her magic bit to tie you up then?" Sera scoffed.

"It works as well as any pair of handcuffs or bit of rope, Sera, better even." Solas couldn't help but smirk at the way she blushed at that. Everyone started handing Iron Bull coin.

* * *

They had started packing up camp that morning when it happened. Solas simply froze, his vision blurred. He felt out of his body but in it, and could not alert the others. Something had taken over his sight, and now he was looking at a battle. A swirling pool of blood magic surrounded him, though he saw it more than felt it, and he understood what was happening.

He was seeing what was happening to Alhasha, and he was angry. He'd threatened that mage to protect her! Strange, now that he noticed, he could hear the mage in question shouting at her to fight back. From the sounds of things, Anders was in a fight to get to her. The vision faded, and suddenly his sight was filled with the faces of those from camp staring at him.

" _Alhasha_  is in danger, red lyrium mage, templars…The mage is not enough to protect her." Solas said, answering everyone's unasked question. "If she dies, so does he."

* * *

Not long after that, Anders was running for his life, but not from Fen'Harel. That particular fear hadn't had time to enter into his mind yet. No. Vael's men, or the red lyrium mages, he didn't know, but he was running to escape them. He'd thrown Hawke over one of his shoulders, and started running the second he dispatched the one attacking her, Biscuit trailing behind them. Anders knew his magic was depleted, and running was the only way out now.

Their only hope now was getting to the camp. Surely they had to be close by? A man that is willing to threaten someone within an inch of their life would not simply trust him to be able to do as demanded. Of course the man would have to come himself. It was that, that Anders was counting on, as he ran down the mountain.

He was in luck! Anders had never been more relieved to see his possible destruction, as he literally ran into camp. They hadn't even looked surprised to see him, already prepared to deal with whatever it was that was chasing him. He paid the fight no mind, instantly setting her down and going through her medical bag looking for healing potions, anything that would help slow down what he knew was happening to her. She seemed to be trying to fight it on her own, but Anders could already see flakes of red lyrium along the lines of lyrium she already possessed, and he knew that his magic would not be enough for this.

" _Alhasha!_ " Solas called out, and suddenly he was in his view, trying to heal Hawke as he was. "What's wrong with her? What happened?"

"We were overrun." Anders answered. "Surrounded. She'd told me about red lyrium templars, but for a mage to take it? That was new. One of them infected Hawke before I could get to her."

"We need to slow down her heart. It will buy us some time, at least." Solas said, and the two began working on cooling magic. She looked barely conscious now, her eyes pleading with him, almost like she was trying to apologize for worrying him again. "Come on,  _Lath'in_ , don't do this now, stay with me… _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara em, sathan, Alhasha._ "

"What about Dagna?" A pug nosed short elf asked, uncomfortably, obviously hating to see Hawke like this. "She's been working on this, yeah?"

"It's the only chance she has, yes, but we're so far away." Solas replied, without looking up at her, still trying to do something about the spread of the poison. "We might not make it in time."

"It's better than no chance at all!" She huffed, angrily. "Now take her, and get goin'!"

"She's right, Chuckles. Take care of her. We'll deal with Blondie." Varric insisted.

 **" _No_ _._**  I'll need him with me." Solas insisted. "He can help me slow down the poison, buy her time, give her a better shot at making it to Skyhold."

* * *

_Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara em, sathan, Alhasha –_ **_Stay with me. Another day. Another night. Don't leave me, please, Alhasha_ **

* * *

"He's right. It's better if I go with him." Anders stated, silencing the dwarf, surprising Solas. "There is no time to debate this."

" _Ma serannas_ , Anders." Solas said, looking to him, before turning to Iron Bull. "Can you get the horses ready, Iron Bull? We'll be taking an extra one, so I'm sorry for whoever this inconveniences."

**_Thank you_ **

"Just get her to Dagna, and we'll call it even, Shiny." Sera huffed, not looking at him.

"Of course, Sera." Solas replied, with a slight nod, and a small smile. He turned back to Anders. "You will need to keep up. We will not be stopping for very long. Just enough time to check on her progress, and keep her stable before heading out again."

**_~Biscuit follow you~_ **

"You are too young yet to be keeping the pace we'll need to set." Solas said, looking to the Mabari pup. "Follow the others for now. You'll see us again soon."

**_~Rubs ok?~_ **

"She'll be fine. Don't worry." Solas replied, not missing the way Anders now stared at him.

They set off soon after that. Solas is reminded too well of the first time he had to do this, and how much things have changed since then. Where as before he had refused to think of a life with her, now he could not think of a life without her, and he knew he was facing that possibility now. He does not kill Anders, though he is angry at him for not being able to protect her. Alhasha has always had a reckless nature, wild as she is, and it is something he both loves and hates about her.

* * *

They do not talk much, if at all, on their way to Skyhold. Anders is shocked by the changes in the landscape as they travel. His choices have had far more consequences than he'd ever intended, but that is the way of things. He comes to the conclusion that Fen'Harel, Solas, does indeed love his friend Hawke. It wasn't something he'd been able to believe before, simply with Hawke's stories.

Seeing how he cared for her when they had to stop, was what convinced him. The way Solas carried her, the way he looked at her when he thought that Anders wasn't paying attention, these were the things that convinced him. There was a phrase the man kept repeating whenever they stopped to check on her progress.  _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara em._  Anders hadn't ask what it meant, and Solas never offered it, but Anders got the sense that it was somehow intimately important.

" _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara em, sathan._ " There it was again, that phrase, and he had to know.

"What does that mean?" Anders asked, as they continued to make sure the poison was slowed. "I know  _sathan_  is please, so is it a type of prayer or something?"

"Something like that." Solas replied, not taking his eyes off of Hawke. "I  ** _am_**  asking for something impossible, so it never hurts to be polite. At this point, it does not matter who is listening, only that someone does."

"So, what are you asking for?" Anders asked, curiously.

Solas just looked at him, and for a moment Anders could see the anguish he'd been hiding, as he replied. "Time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am working on more chapters for this, but all I have is phone net, and I need to go to a friends house to upload a new chapter.....or spend 3 days typing on my phone lol


	22. Red Lyrium and what happens after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red lyrium poisoning. He could lose her to red lyrium poisoning. Through this, they discover just how connected he and Hawke are. It is both a strength and a weakness, seen by many, but it is rare that kindred souls are so intrinsically connected. There is another threat to Hawke. Vael has not gone away, and the Ball at the Winter Palace is his perfect chance. Solas had not plan to go, but knowing this, he can not take the chance.

Chapter 22

Hawke's screams could be heard throughout most of Skyhold, and not many stayed in the main hall to wait. Those that did stay, watched Solas as he paced near the door to the Undercroft. He had been pushed out after having nearly attacked Dagna when Hawke began screaming. Every time she screamed, he'd cringe as if he'd been the one physically hurt. When the others got there, Dagna still had not come out of the Undercroft, and Solas looked to be on the verge of breaking.

Cullen watches as all of this unfolds. He is  ** _not_** happy about Anders, but knows that Hawke was right. In the end, Anders had not been in his right mind, and he had only made a tense situation worse. Meredith's downfall would have happened with or without Anders, and if the Inquisitor wished to judge him, it would be later. It's Solas that worries him now. The elven man has not left the main hall since he was pushed out of the Undercroft, at least not for long.

Red lyrium poisoning...no wonder Solas was so worried. Dhaevira had once explained to him that future she walked in, how eat up with the stuff Grand Enchanter Fiona had been. Once you were infected with it, it spread until all you were was red lyrium. Former Knight Captain Meredith was proof of that. That was the reality Solas was faced with now, what Dagna was trying to save Hawke from. He did not envy Solas that, often worrying for Dhaevira whenever she had to leave Skyhold.

* * *

Solas had had it out there, feeling helpless as she screamed in agony, he couldn't take it any more. Each scream tore at him in ways previously unknown to him. There were moments when he could see things through her eyes, flashes of Fenris and Blackwall holding her down while Dagna tried another treatment. In those moments, he could feel her pain, and at the last second he made the decision to barge into the Undercroft...only to be stopped by the Commander.

"Oh, no you don't." Cullen stated, his hand firmly gripping Solas's shoulder. "You'll do her no good as you are now."

"What would  ** _you_**  know about it, Commander?" Solas growled, angrily.

"I know that right now you aren't thinking straight, that the only thought in your mind is to get to her, to stop whatever it is that's hurting her. I know that you have a very tenuous control over your magic right now, and that it's so oppressive that if you were to walk in there as you are, you'd destroy the Undercroft and everyone in it, including her. You need to calm down, Solas." Cullen said, surprising Solas by maneuvering him out of the main hall. "Come on. We'll go to The Heralds Rest, and you can yell or scream at me all you want. They'll send for us if anything changes."

That was how he found himself sitting in one of the private dining rooms in The Heralds Rest. Somehow, Dorian had invited himself, not that that was much of a surprise. That loud Tevene was always inviting himself. Maybe he thought the Commander knew. Cullen may be an uncomplicated sort of man, but he was by no means stupid.

"Why are you still grimacing, Solas?" Cullen asked. "Surely your hearing isn't  ** _that_**  good."

"My hearing isn't quite that good, Commander, no." Solas replied, wryly, wincing every so often. "It is only...in moments like these...I can...sometimes...see what she sees...feel her pain...It is likely...one of the unplanned results...of the spell I cast to find my  _nas'falon_...coupled with her own magic."

"No wonder you looked like you were about to lose your mind in there." Cullen noted. "She'll pull through, Solas. Of that, I have no doubt."

"How can you be  ** _sure_**  of that?" Solas snapped. "This is  _ **red lyrium**_. It isn't a  _ **high dragon**_ , or an  _ **Arishok.**_  This is  _ **worse!**_   _Fenedhis lasa!_  This is so much worse than any of those things. You can not  _ **possibly**_  be certain she will make it through this."

"I've seen her pull through things _ **no one**_  should have, Solas. It's not that far of a leap to think that she'll pull through this too." Cullen stated.

"This isn't like anything she's had to face before. This corruption attacks from within, almost like the Blight. This isn't something she can stab, or set on fire with her magic, Commander, and if something doesn't...if something doesn't happen soon...I will  _ **lose**_  her to this." Solas said, his eyes closed, his voice barely above a whisper at the end.

"When you said you feel her pain...Did you mean that figuratively, or are there physical manifestations?" Cullen asked, suddenly horrified. "Do you get bruises on places she's been hit? Anything like that?"

"I had not truly noticed before, but perhaps it is so...I am...uncertain...In the beginning...when i was trying to heal the Magebane wound...My magic barely reacted...At the time, I had thought it was only the amount...There was  _so **much**_  of it, Commander." Solas said, thinking back on it now. "When BarkSpawn died, I felt...her grief...cried tears I knew weren't mine...When you sparred with  _Alhasha_...it did hurt...Why?"

"Dorian, we need to get him back to the Undercroft,  ** _now."_**  Cullen insisted, urgently, not answering Solas. "Dagna will just have to figure out how to deal with the extra power. For Maker's sake,  ** _look_**  at him."

Solas was suddenly confused, and feeling very disorientated. Etunash! Just what was Dagna doing to her now? But this wasn't Alhasha that was feeling this way, it was him. It was a trick of the light, he thought as he noticed the small red flakes on his arm...but then how well could a trick of the light mimic her lyrium lines? He stood to leave with them to the Undercroft before darkness claimed his world, and he was certain that the floor was going to try to assassinate his face...again.

* * *

 **"** ** _ **DAGNA!**_**  We've got a problem!" Cullen said, as he made his way into the Undercroft.

"What happened, Commander? I'm a little  ** _busy_**  at the moment trying out a new theory on Hawke. You know, she's been awfully cooperative considering the amount of pain she's been in. There's this red lyrium rune thing I've been working on that might just break Samson's armour, and I'm trying to mix that with…Ohhhh, cheese and crackers." She said, that last bit came as she saw what the problem was.

Dorian and Cullen are carrying in Solas on a stretcher. He's passed out, from the looks of it. She can already see flakes of red lyrium on his skin, strange that they mimic Hawke's lyrium lines. He's having trouble breathing, sweating profusely, showing signs of distress…just like Hawke. If Dagna didn't know any better, she'd say she'd been working on him too.

"Put him on the table next to her. There's no risk for contamination, not where he's already been infected. How is that even  ** _possible_?**  They were careful when bringing her back." Dagna asked, already beginning to look over him.

"They are true Kindred souls." Dorian supplied, gravely. "They feel each others pain. This is an extreme case of it, but not out of the realm of possibilities. I should have suspected it sooner. I'm actually surprised the Commander caught it before I did."

"Any progress with Hawke?" Cullen asked, hopeful.

"Right now, her lyrium lines are the only thing containing it. That's one of the reasons why the former templars fell to it so quickly, Commander. Their bodies were saturated with the normal blue lyrium. Hawke's case is unique in that she has no need for Lyrium. Like Fenris though, she has lyrium lines embedded her skin. It's drawing the red lyrium to it…for now." Dagna said, getting another set of gloves. "If you're staying, you two will need to put on these protective gloves. They're the only things I've been able to work out so far in regards to keeping one from getting poisoned."

"Why can't these be applied to Hawke and Solas?" Cullen asked, making Dagna stop short as she considered the idea.

"I…hadn't really thought about it, but in theory…it  ** _could_**  work. It took a lot of electricity and runic work to get these to function correctly. Unfortunately, the downside is that their hearts could explode." She concluded. "I don't mean that figuratively. I mean it literally. Their hearts could explode if this doesn't work. Would they be willing to let me try that, knowing the risks?Hawke's been pretty open to some crazy ideas, but she's not exactly awake right now for me to ask, and this is pretty dangerous even for me."

"I don't think they have many other options left, Dagna." Blackwall stated, shaking his head.

"Fenris, do I have your okay on this? You have to act as proxy where you're the only family she technically has." Dagna asked, more serious sounding than she normally is. "As far as I know, Solas has no family."

"Blackwall is right. If we don't do this, she dies. If we do this, there's just the  _possibility_  that she'll die." Fenris replied, determined. "Solas too. His soul is tied to hers, so whatever is done to her  ** _should_**  transfer to him."

"Alright then. Commander, Dorian, I need you two out." Dagna said, making her way to the runes she kept. "Blackwall and Fenris are already as protected as best as they can be, but I can't promise the same for you."

* * *

"I'd heard of Kindred souls, but you seemed more knowledgeable of them, Dorian." Cullen stated, as they made their way out of the main hall. "Why is that?"

"It's actually quite well documented in Minrathous. As taboo as it is, if your kindred soul just so happens to be the arrangement that was made, all the better, because you can share in their strengths. It's been all but outlawed to try and find them though, because if it isn't with the arrangement that was made, your enemies can get to you through your kindred soul." Dorian replied. "Here it just  ** _feels_**  rare, because of the current climate between mages and templars, and well…  ** _everything_.**  There aren't too many mages willing to get caught here, by searching for their kindred soul."

"What about the transference?" Cullen asked.

"To some extent, it is normal between kindred souls, but to the extent that Solas and Hawke have is…  ** _That_**  is rare." Dorian replied, with a bit of a sigh. "There are a few cases that have been documented. I'll see if I can find the research, so that we know more of what to expect. Cases like  ** _these_**  are the main reason kindred souls are taboo in Tevinter. If it just so happens to be an extreme case like this one, many see it as a weakness instead of a strength. In reality, this is one of the ways they protect each other. The pain that Hawke is enduring right now would be even more so if Solas were not taking a part of it into himself, and Tevinter is nothing if not all about  ** _Self_**  preservation. Most of them wouldn't know how to protect another person if they tried. Solas doesn't even seem to be aware he's doing it until it is already happening, as if he protects her subconsciously, on instinct. For something like  _that_ …there would have to be no other bond that would work for them, no other romantic relationship that would ever be enough, like two pieces of a puzzle."

"The howling wolf will always call him home, a song only he can hear." Cullen mumbled to himself.

"What was that?" Dorian asked, though he thought he knew.

"What? Oh…something Cole said a while back. For some odd reason, this whole situation made me think of it." Cullen admitted. "Lavellan called that mark on Hawke's ankle the mark of Fen'Harel, but that's not the first time I've heard that about it. A dalish elf back in Kirkwall spoke of it, said it was a curse. Hawke was always very insistent that it was a birthmark, but what if…What if that mark is the  ** _physical_**  manifestation of the spell Solas cast to find his kindred soul? If it  ** _is_ _,_**  why would it take the shape of something thought to be a curse? And what if the answer to that is something I don't want to know?"

 **" _That_**  is something you would have to ask them when they wake up again, I think, if you want." Dorian stated, with a sigh. "This is getting a bit too serious for my tastes. What say we take Biscuit, and torture the recruits?"

"I'm sure he'll enjoy it." Cullen replied, with a chuckle, and the two made their way towards the barracks.

* * *

When Solas woke up, he was still a bit disoriented. He does not try to get up again, after a wave of dizziness hits him during his first attempt. It does, however, alert Dagna. She doesn't say anything at first, as she begins looking over him first and then Alhasha. Solas waited, unwilling to break the silence, least the answer not be what he hopes.

"You two  ** _sure_**  are something." She said, finally.

" _Alhasha_ …is…is she…" Solas begins, but can't make himself finish the question.

"She's fine." Dagna replied, allowing him to relax. "Because the two of you are connected so deeply, you fell to her poisoning. It slowed the red lyrium down even further in you both, and because of that, I was able to find a way to save the two of you. Because of the measures I had to go to to save you both, I think I may even have secured a way to break through Samson's red lyrium armour based on a previous attempt with a red lyrium rune, but I still have a lot of testing to do before I can say that with any certainty, and I highly recommend that you two not engage in any…um… _activities_?…until your hearts have had time to heal."

"What did you have to do?" He asked, noticing for the first time that his throat was severely dry. He made another attempt, and sat up when Dagna brought him some water.

"When Hawke was in here by herself, I developed gloves that would ward off the corruption. Basically, I had to take that, and a couple of heavy electric runes, and the red lyrium rune I spoke of, and shock the shit out of both your hearts." Dagna replied. "I figured that it was better that you  ** _could_**  have died, as opposed to you  ** _would_**  have died, if you know what I mean. Your hearts could have exploded from the stress of the cure, but if I had left you alone, you would have both died eventually."

"I understand. Thank you, Dagna, for doing what you could for us." Solas stated, with a nod. "When can we leave the Undercroft?"

"I've already called for some people to come and get you two, and take you to her weirdly hard to find room. You should have some food there by then. It's important you get your strength back. You two have been in a kind of stasis for a few days now."

* * *

When Hawke woke up, it took her a few minutes to realize where she was. She was back in what she secretly called 'their' room. Solas's arm was around her, holding her protectively against him. She knew that he was awake too, because his fingers made small patterns against her stomach. Hawke took a deep breath, knowing this was not going to go over well.

"Solas, I-" She began, but Solas interrupted her.

 **" _Don't_."**  Solas stated, his voice cold and even, which saddened her. "I have never felt so  ** _helpless,_**  to hear your screams and know that all my powers amounted to  ** _nothing_**  if they could not help you. Red lyrium poisoning,  _Alhasha._  I almost  ** _lost_**  you to red lyrium poisoning! What were you thinking?!"

"It wasn't like I went out looking for them, you know!" She snapped. "I didn't sense them this time. There wasn't any pain. We were overrun before I even knew they were  ** _there._**  As good as my hearing is, I should have heard  ** _something_.**  I should have  ** _felt_**  them!"

"I…I will admit that I did not ask Anders what happened. There was only get you to Skyhold, hope Dagna could save you, pray I wasn't too late. I have never really been a religious sort of man,  _Alhasha,_  but I…" Solas admitted, holding her just a bit tighter. "All I could think was ' _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara em, sathan, Alhasha'._ I know you can not promise me this, and it is unreasonable to demand it, but…Do not  ** _ever_**  make me worry like that again,  _Alhasha_."

"You know I can't promise that." She huffed, wriggling around until she was facing him.

"Let me be unreasonable for just a little while,  _Lath'in_." Solas replied, with a slight smile. "I…I can not… _Ar tel'rosa sai atha o'na. Sathan, lasa'em ema na la'min sule ara'geal varan em. Ar tel'nuva sai laima na._ "

**_I can not bear to part from you. Please, let me hold you like this till my fear leaves me. I do not wish to lose you._ **

"Are you going to be like this after every time I get injured?" Hawke asked, trying to sound playful, hoping that he knew she actually liked being held like this.

"Most likely." He replied, without missing a beat, as he practically buried his nose in her hair.

"As long as you hold me just like this, I think I'll be alright." Hawke said, with a hum, surprising the both of them. "I didn't mean to say that out loud. I was going to make a spectacularly sarcastic comment, and hope that you didn't yell at me for being reckless and not paying attention to my surroundings."

"I actually expected a fight because of how this makes me sound." Solas admitted, albeit a bit sheepishly. "I feel…intensely possessive of you,  _Lath'in_. It is another feeling I am not use to dealing with on such a regular basis as this."

"Just wait till  ** _you're_**  the one injured. You won't know what to do with me." Hawke replied, and he actually chuckled at that.

* * *

" _Lath'in_ …" Solas groaned, pleasantly. She was tracing patterns over his heart again, something he loved that she did. It felt like she was trying to write herself into it. "We are to take it easy over the next couple of days. With what Dagna had to do, our hearts need the time to heal. She made it a point to say no…um… _activities_ …"

"Our?…I thought it was just me…I thought that that's why you were mad at me…What…what did Dagna have to do?" Alhasha asked, hesitantly.

" _Lath'in_ …" Solas tried to calm her, but she was already working herself towards a panic.

She'd sat up, and scooted away from him just a little. Still, the distance was enough that it felt like she was drifting away from him, and that was something else he had little experience in. He sighed, and sat up too. This was the part he had been hoping to avoid, so of course Alhasha would zoom in on it. So he rolled up one of his sleeves to his elbow, and revealed the pattern they'd been hiding.

It was faint, but it was clearly the pattern of her lyrium lines. He caught himself holding his breath as she traced them gently with her fingers. He was  _not_  prepared for the sensations that caused in him, and he rested his head on her shoulder, damn near tempted to risk their hearts anyway. This was an amazingly wicked torment, and she had only touched his arm! If this is what she felt when he touched her lyrium lines, he'd be doing this a lot more often.

"mmm… _Fenedhis lasa,_   _Lath'in_ …Is this…You feel this way when I do that?" Solas asked, unsuccessfully trying not to moan as he spoke.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" She asked, suddenly alarmed, but when she tried to scoot away from him, he held her to him.

"Quite the opposite,  _Lath'in_." He replied, with a cheeky grin. "No wonder you make those little sounds I adore so much."

"How did this happen?" She asked, no longer touching the faint lines on his arm.

"I suspect it is because we are kindred souls. We can feel each others pain. In a way, it is how we protect each other." Solas stated, backing away to look at her. She didn't look like she believed him.

"I've hurt you." She mumbled, not looking at him.

" _Alhasha_ , listen to me. You have not hurt me, I have simply shared your pain. You would do the same for me, you've claimed as much already." Solas insisted. She looked at him curiously now. "Because of that, we were able to help Dagna create a cure for red lyrium poisoning, and possibly a way to break through Samson's red lyrium armour. Now, no more thinking like that. You need to eat, and Lavellan has made sure we have plenty here."

* * *

Two days later, they were both given a clean bill of health. Which was a good thing, now that he thought about it. They would need to pack and leave for Ha'lam'shiral soon, and Hawke still had no idea he was going. Solas had refused to speak of it, and he watched her tried to hide how disappointed she was about him not going. She didn't have time to really talk to him about it, for which he was grateful.

* * *

 

Fenris was very surprised to learn about the scarring Solas had been left with. That he had taken on her pain, and in a sense her symptoms, shocked Fenris. Varric had told him about it, but he hadn't believed it until Cullen confirmed it for him. It wasn't something that Solas talked about though, which also surprised him. Maybe the two had agreed to just not say anything, Fenris realized.

Solas had asked him a little while ago to meet him at the Herald's Rest. Hawke would be busy packing, and so wouldn't notice him gone, or so was his hope. The woman  _was_  notorius for procrastinating. So, when he got there, he was not surprised to find Solas at a table off to the side. What he did not expect, was to find Iron Bull, Dorian, Blackwall, and Varric with him.

"So what is all  ** _this_**  then?" Fenris asked, as he got in.

"Sit down, will ya, Broody?" Varric asked, with a huff. "He won't tell us anything otherwise. I know. I've tried."

"Fine." Fenris said, sitting down at the table. "Now, what is this?"

"Sister Nightingale let me know of this, and so I have asked all of you here. Vael will be in attendance at the Winter Palace. Alhasha does not know, and I have asked her not to speak of it to her." Solas stated. "You know how difficult  _Alhasha_  is. She will not accept help in this regard if she knows that it is being offered."

"So what do you expect to do about it?" Dorian asked, with a grin.

"Don't let her know it's being offered, of course." Solas replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You mean help her behind her back?" Iron Bull asked, with a slight grin. "You don't think she'll see that coming?"

"Oh, she'll definitely see that coming." Blackwall said, snickering.

"Look. I'm going to be there. She just doesn't know that yet. With Vael set to be in attendance, I don't want to take chances." Solas stated, looking troubled. "Is it too much to ask that you simply keep an eye on her when she's not with me? I have an obligation to help the Inquisitor, so I can not be there all the time, but I have to know someone will be there for her if need be."

"Relax, Chuckles, we understand." Varric stated, pragmatically. "I'll talk to Buttercup and the others at some point too. You  ** _know_**  they'll want in on this. They'll be with her during times we can't be anyway."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the room Sera keeps at the Herald's Rest, the girls were having their own meeting, and Hawke was most definitely  ** _not_**  packing. Vivianne and Sera were even getting along, well at least as much as they could be. Cassandra tried to act indifferent, but she could not deny her curiosity about the dresses, and Leliana was dying to see the shoes. They had just gotten through looking at the finished product that was Lavellan's dress. Hawke almost didn't want to reveal her dress just yet, but Lavellan insisted, and so she brought out the dress.

* * *

Down below, where the men had gathered, intense multiple squeals could be heard. Solas instantly tensed up, waiting.

Iron Bull simply shook his head, and said. "Girls and dresses."

"Don't forget the shoes, Tiny." Varric replied, sagely.

"Now  ** _that_**  would be a crime." Dorian chuckled.

* * *

"Hawke…it's gorgeous!" Lavellan said, holding it to herself. "I'm almost half tempted to steal it for myself."

"These shoes." Leliana said, looking over them. "They are exquisite Hawke. Lady Amell would have been impressed."

"Thank you." Hawke said, a bit surprised at Leliana. She'd had no idea the two women might have known each other, but thinking back on her time in Lothering, she should not have been surprised. "I just…The whole point of me keeping it a secret is so that he'd be surprised when he saw it, but he's not even going to  _be_  there."

"Don't worry, Hawke. I doubt he will really miss this." Lavellan said, giving her the dress back. "He may surprise you yet."

* * *

The trip over took longer than she thought it would, but maybe that was just because she was lost in thought. Biscuit happily followed along, but she had no idea where he disappeared to sometimes. He had taken to Cole and Cullen better than he had to some of the others, though it looked like he loved them too. She wasn't worried about where he would go, because everyone watched out for him. Iron Bull even helped him 'train' with the Chargers when they would stop to rest.

Solas had insisted that he wasn't going, and while she wished she could, she couldn't make him. She resolved instead to help Lavellan as much as she could for what lay ahead. Hawke may have been a Fereldan country bumpkin, but her mother had been of noble birth. There was no way that Hawke could have gotten out of dance lessons, etiquette lessons, and how to act at parties. Between her, Josephine, Vivienne, and Leliana, she felt that Lavellan had a good understanding of The Game.

* * *

 

Somehow, Solas had managed to avoid running into Hawke throughout their entire trip to the Inn the Inquisition would be staying in during the Ball. Lavellan had tried to arrange them to run into each other several times, but nothing seemed to work. Hawke was always running around helping Josephine get the girls ready, and Solas was always helping the men get their things ready. Hawke was absolutely bummed out that Solas wouldn't attend the event with her, so she had thrown herself into her work, and that left very little time for herself. Lavellan was worried that Hawke would run herself into the ground, but she needn't have worried.

* * *

At that moment, Hawke saw something she thought the couldn't possibly be seeing. Was that…that wasn't Solas…was it? Of course it was! She'd recognize that bald head of his anywhere. Solas was on the outskirts, helping to organize some of the things they had brought for the Ball, and he'd said he wasn't going to be there!

"That elf is in so much trouble." She muttered to herself.

"I told him to wear a hood or something so he wouldn't get caught." Lavellan said, with a smug grin. Hawke playfully swatted at her.

"You  ** _knew_?!"**  Hawke asked, keeping her voice low, as she once again smacked at Lavellan.

"There isn't a single person here who didn't know…except for you." Cassandra added, with a reserved but decidedly sheepish grin.

"She has you there, Hawke." Leliana agreed.

"I can't beleve you lot." Hawke grumbled, but there was no real anger in her voice.

"Well, come on ladies. We'll get a good nights rest, and tomorrow, get ready." Josephine stated, nudging everyone to bed.

* * *

He had gotten there much earlier than the others. It was needed to acquaint himself with the serving staff, and check on the palace's defenses. There were already many problems he could see with the security of the place, but nothing that was bad enough to exploit well. The elves seemed uneasy, but the only thing they would tell him was not to go up to the servants quarters if he valued his life. They were afraid, he realized, and made a mental note to tell Lavellan when she got there.

It would be foolish of anyone to head up there on their own. He was a strategist, if nothing else. As some of the guests started arriving, he went and quickly changed into the outfit Lavellan had commissioned for him. He couldn't help but smirk at the Commander's predicament, now that he was here. Cullen was a unique curiosity among the people of Orlais, and so of course they would flock to him, but the man was distinctly uncomfortable with all of the attention.

Sister Nightingale and Lady Montilyet were already working the room, talking and laughing with the guests. Cassandra looks slightly uncomfortable, but seemed to be having the same problems as the Commander. Varric already had a corner to himself, regaling his new audience with Tales of the Champion, and the latest adventures of the Herald of Andraste, as if he comfortably owned the place. Lady Vivienne could be seen working the room as well, with an ease that few possessed.

Dorian was off sulking, because he most definitely did  ** _not_**  want to come to this, but the man could not bring himself to turn down Solas's request for help when it came to Alhasha. These events reminded him too much like home, he'd said. However, Solas did note that he was within eye shot of Iron Bull, through a window Bull stood by. The two would give each other reassuring gazes when the other looked overwhelmed by the crowds of people. Both of them were there for Alhasha as much as they were there for Lavellan, and he was particularly grateful to them for that. Sera was…he almost didn't want to know where Sera was at the moment, because wherever she was, she was almost certainly causing some kind of trouble…probably with Alhasha.

On second thought, maybe he needed to see what Sera was doing. He hasn't seen Alhasha yet, and he was starting to get worried by that. The woman would try and do the impossible if she thought she could get away with it, having already done so on more than one occasion. She would always be half one thing, half another, belonging to this world and that one. If there was anyone who could see the path for both worlds, he knew, it would be her.

Sera, it seemed, was  ** _not_**  causing mischief…at least not yet; a rare occurrence for her. She had taken with the elven servants, and her Friends of Red Jenny contacts. Solas didn't know if that was a relief or a worry. Blackwall had seemed quite dodgy since they got there, hiding from his own demons, no doubt. He could only hope that the man would not be blinded by them tonight.

However, none of that seemed to matter the moment he walked back into the ballroom. The Commander had been trying to talk to him, as he was aware that Solas had managed to charm the guests, and was hoping for an escape. He would have helped him too, but the moment those doors opened, Solas's jaw dropped, and all hope of escape was lost to the poor Commander. It was as if Solas had found himself back in Arlathan, and she was walking down the staircase to meet him just as she had then. She was wearing  ** _that_**  dress, the one she'd been wearing the night he'd had to forget her, and it was like the past had come to meet him as they announced her in.

**_*Presenting…The Lady Hawke…Free mage of Fereldan…Champion of Kirkwall…defender of the people…spark that ignited the mage rebellion…Rumoured Chosen of Fen'Harel…*_ **

" _Sulahn'ean._ " Solas couldn't help but whisper, barely aware that he had confused the Commander.

She was a vision, walking down the stairs to him, and he was in awe of her. He left the Commander to fend for himself, and made his way towards her. The way she looked at him, when her gaze caught his own, sent a thrill through him. The way she smiled, as if she were hunting him, never ceased to pull him in. Then he realized she'd known, and the realization must have shown on his face, because she smiled wider.

"That dress… _Na'amem'ra_ … _Alhasha_ …You look…" Solas tried to say, but was quickly silenced when she kissed him, causing several nearby guests to gasp at the scandal of it all, not that either of them paid attention to them. " _Na'ane syl'veral, Lath'in_."

**_You kept it – You're breath taking, love_ **

**_*Presenting…The Inquisitor…Lady Lavellan…First of the Clan Lavellan…Ally to the Mages…Sealer of The Breach…defender of the people…Herald of Andraste…*_ **

"I tried to get them to take that last part out." Alhasha grumbled, and he knew to what she was referring. "I didn't think you'd appreciate it very much."

"I'm sure it will give the people of Orlais something to talk about." Solas stated, slightly amused. "Who told you I would be here? I imagine there is a bet on that, if I ask master Tethras."

"No one. You gave yourself away. I would recognize that bald head of yours anywhere,  _Ara'nas_." She replied, sliding her hand up the back of his neck, giving him small kisses even as she grins at him.

"I would have tried a hat if I thought Cole would have let me borrow his." Solas teased, about to kiss her again, but there was a tap on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but I kind of need to steal your girlfriend." Lavellan said, with a chuckle. "You two can scandalize the Orleisians later."

"But of course,  _Lethal'lan."_  Solas replied, nodding to her, before looking back to Alhasha. "Save me a dance?"

"But of course." She answered, biting her lip slightly, before turning to leave with Lavellan.

Solas turned to make his way over to the Commander to temporarily rescue him, when he found that somehow the tables had been turned. After seeing such an unafraid and open display of affection from someone who was very obviously an elf, many of those that had been surrounding the Commander, were now surrounding  ** _him._**  Thanks to the close magical field around himself, he did not have quite the same problem the Commander had about being pinched on his…well, anything, really. Instead of being deterred by this, they found it delightfully entertaining, and began to ask him all kinds of questions about his relationship with 'The Lady Hawke', and if he was worried about there being anything to that whole rumoured 'Chosen of Fen'Harel' business. He supposed that the intrigue of it was what drew them in, and he inwardly sighed as he shared a knowing look with the Commander, who was now surrounded by an entirely new group of Orlesian nobles.

* * *

She had spent most of the night talking with people in stupid masks that hid nothing and yet everything. Hawke made sure to be the center of attention when she knew that Lavellan was not in the room, trying to distract the Orlesians from realizing Lavellan was gone. The women were pleasant, but backhandedly insulting. The men were repulsive, handsy, and a few of them had ended up with broken wrists because of it. ( _Iron Bull was_ _especially_ _amused with that._ ) This was much different than the last Ball she had gone to, but on the bright side, nothing had been blown up…yet.

Someone from the Inquisition was always within eyesight, she noticed. There was more than once where she thought she caught Sebastian's figure roaming the crowds, always out of the corner of her eye, and she became suddenly grateful there was always someone close by. It had sent her into a near panic the first time, and Varric had suddenly shown up out of nowhere to calm her down. How in the bloody void had  ** _that_**  happened? It wasn't that Vael was there that shocked her, but that she could go from the strong woman she was to a puddle of hysterics in no time at all, and something like that was not suppose to happen to The Champion of Kirkwall ever.

This explained why there was always someone within eyesight of her though. They had known he would be there, but instead of alerting her so that she could be prepared, they had tried to protect her on their own. While she wanted to be angry at what she assumed was Solas's plan, she would have done the same thing. Hawke tried to remind herself of this, and focused on the task at hand. Her discomfort was nothing, if they could prevent the assassination of Empress Celene.

In all honesty, she was surprised that they hadn't thought to hire Zevran for this. If you wanted someone dead, Zevran was the one you asked, but since she didn't see him around, he must have turned down the offer if asked. Then again, with as arrogant as these people seemed to be, they'd want this all in house. That Gaspard was a real piece of work too, and it had taken everything she had not to break his arm when he danced with her. This must be why the Orlesian's swarmed Cullen, because he wanted none of them to touch him!

The reveal was nothing short of amazing, showing Florianne to be the guilty… ** _guiltiest?_** …party. Lavellan really did have a knack for this. Finding out Gaspard's attempts, his being framed, and Florianne's plans with Coryphius was damned impressive, and reuniting that Briala woman with Empress Celene was absolutely romantic. Varric owed her so much coin, and she planned to gloat about it at the next available moment. Though when Solas finally back from helping Lavellan, suddenly thoughts of gloating could wait.

"While I do love a good political intrigue, I am glad that it is done with." Solas said, with a tired sigh. Then he smiled slightly, and held out a hand to her. "I would much rather enjoy a dance, if you would be so kind."

"I did promise one, after all." She teased. "After that, it's open for negotiation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get to a friends internet. We play DnD on wednesday's and we haven't been able to in a while.


	23. What happens in the Winter Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a chance to dance with her in his arms, but a last minute errand calls him away, and Hawke runs into a problem she wished never to be in. What will Solas do when he finally comes upon a Vael?

Chapter 23

Without hesitation, he lead her out onto the dance floor, nodding to the musicians as he went. Those that had talked with him before, knew he was with the Inquisition, and therefore would not dismiss him even when the nobles did not know what to make of him as the two made their way to the dance floor. There was at least one musician there that knew who he  ** _really_**  was, he noticed, and nodded back to him when Solas nodded. That particular musician turned to the others, and started talking quietly. Before long, a beautiful slow melody filled the air, allowing the two to dance as they wanted.

After the evening that had just transpired,  ** _this_**  was the only thing he wanted, to hold her close. Dancing allowed for that, and he held her close as they danced, resting the side of his head against her own. She did not object, instead returning his gesture, and he could only imagine the night she had had with dealing with the nobles more than he had had to do. Already, talk surrounded them, some of the Orlesian nobles were unable to keep their thoughts to themselves. Truly, these people needed to get out more, if  _this_  was all it took to scandalize them.

"I had not realized…that  ** _this_**  is why you wanted me to be here,  _Lath'in."_  Solas said, softly. "That you kept it…Why?"

She backed away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, and replied. " _Sul'na_."

**_For you_ **

 

* * *

 

Lavellan truly saw it then, as Hawke danced with Solas. A line from the story came back to her. Fen'Harel danced in the flames Sulahn'ean created. That dress made Hawke look like she was fire, like she was a phoenix, and the way Solas danced with her…the way he moved, dancing in the flames she created. He did not have the typical slight slouch that many elves seemed to possess, instead carrying himself as if he were of nobility. The two danced together as if they were lost in their own world, smiles of true delight on their faces, entire conversations held with the way they looked at each other, with eyes for no one else.

It was good to see them so openly happy. It seemed that the Orlesian nobility didn't know what to make of it, enthralled with 'such an open and daring display' as she had heard from one Orlesian lady. Dancing and kissing at the same time? They really  ** _were_**  trying to scandalize the Orlesians, she chuckled. It would certainly give them something to talk about, at any rate.

She couldn't fault the couple for their happiness though. She wished, just for a moment, that she could have something like that tonight. It would be nice if Cullen had not  ** _automatically_**  told her no when she'd asked to dance. He wasn't comfortable in crowds like this one, and she had understood, but…at the same time…This whole evening had been filled with firsts for her, and damn it if she didn't want one of those magical fairy tale happy endings to go along with it.

"Would you care to dance with me?" Cullen asked, from behind her, surprising her a bit. She hadn't expected him, lost in her thoughts, and so she had not heard him.

"I thought you said you didn't dance." She replied, teasingly, as a slow smile crossed her face.

"I don't, but for you, I can try." Cullen stated, with a small shy and disarmingly wonderful smile.

Lavellan couldn't stop the way her heart jumped at that. This was what she'd wanted, after all. Now that all of the intrigue was over, there was time for such things as this; a dance, a smile, a kiss. The two moved to a slow waltz, thankful they could have this private moment away from prying eyes. Neither wanted such a moment to end.

* * *

 

"They look happy, don't they?" Hawke asked, when she saw Cullen and Lavellan still dancing out on the balcony.

"They do, indeed,  _Lath'in_." Solas noted, turning her gently to face him. "There are some last minute things to check over with Sister Nightingale and Lady Montilyet, but after that, I was thinking we could leave…that is…if you like."

"Danced out already?" She teased. "I haven't even stepped on your toes yet."

"I'll be back momentarily,  _Lath'in._ " Solas replied, with a quick kiss, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face as he left.

Only a few moments later, she heard. "Oh, good. I thought he'd never leave." And then suddenly she was caught by a funny smelling white cloth, and darkness fell.

* * *

 

"Something is wrong with Little Bird. Her mind has gone quiet." Cole said, appearing near Varric.

"Tell me she isn't in trouble, Kid." Varric requested, knowing what the boy was about to say.

"I could say that, but it wouldn't be true. Big wolf is going to be angry. I think the prince took her away." Cole replied.

"We'd better hope she's just tucked in a side room somewhere, sleeping off a bad drink, Kid, or else Chuckles is going to be  ** _very_**  angry." Varric agreed, and went off in search of anyone who'd seen Flint.

"Don't worry, I'll help." Cole said, and disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared.

* * *

 

"Hey, Tiny, have you seen Flint around?" Varric asked, walking up to him.

"Not in the last little bit, someone said she fainted and had to be carried to one of the side rooms somewhere." Iron Bull replied, with a frown. "I didn't have time to question them, before they were gone."

"Flint? Faint? Have you  ** _met_**  her?" Varric scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What did this guy look like anyway?"

"Not very tall, brown hair, thick accent, very polite. Why?" Iron Bull asked, seeing the colour drain from Varric's face, and then realized what he had done.  **" _Shit._**  I'll start asking everyone if they've seen her. It's not been that long. He can't have gotten far."

"We'd better hope not." Varric replied, before leaving him to his search.

* * *

 

"Buttercup! Tell me you've seen Flint." Varric demanded, as he marched up to her.

"Not since her and Sol-arse took off dancing. Why?" She asked, snickering. "Think they're finally doin' it?"

"Damn it, Sera, this is  ** _serious_ _._**  I think Vael has her." Varric insisted, pacing back and forth now. "I took my eyes off of her for  ** _one_**  minute. I figured she'd be fine with Solas, but he must have had to do something, and now she's gone. Tiny said some guy took her to one of the side rooms because she fainted. Flint doesn't faint! Ever! Panic, maybe, but faint?"

"Shit! I'll check with the red jenny's here. You keep checkin', yeah?" Sera said, before running off.

* * *

 

"Alright,  _Lath'in_ , I-" Solas said, walking up to where he'd last left her in the ballroom, but stopped when he realized she was gone. " _Lath'in?…Alhasha?…Sulahn'ean?_ …Where did she go?"

He began looking in the surrounding areas for her. No one had seen her recently, not that anyone of these Orlesian fools had been paying attention. Someone mentioned her having to retreat to one of the side rooms because she wasn't feeling well, so he started checking them. There was an ever rising fear that he didn't want to acknowledge, that Vael had found a way to her at last, and he  ** _had_**  noticed that he was feeling slightly off, but he had pushed it aside thinking it was just exhaustion. He was angry at himself for being away from her side, for not being there for her when she needed him, for not realizing when something was wrong sooner.

None of the side rooms contained her or Vael. Solas wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried about that. Now she could be anywhere,  ** _they_**  could be anywhere, and Vael could be…could be…No.  _No._   ** _No!_**  That was  ** _not_**  a thought he was going to allow himself to finish. There had to be  ** _someone_**  that had seen them leaving.

"Solas!" Sera called out, running up to him. She only ever called him Solas when something was wrong, damn it! "Birdy's-"

" _Alhasha_  is  ** _missing_!**  I  ** _know._**  I've searched all of the side rooms. She isn't  ** _in_**  any of those." Solas said, and began walking to check somewhere else.

"Well, then I suggest you get out to the carriages. One of the red jenny's said Prince Stuck up has a carriage in wait for a swift exit!" Sera retorted.

" _Etunash!_  I'll never get there in time like this, and I may need help." Solas grumbled, and whirled around back to face her. "Sera, how badly does magic  ** _really_**  weird you out? Truthfully. It's important."

"Well that's the question of the day itd'nit?" Sera retorted. "It weirds me out, being all magicy, but if it helps Birdy, then do what ever it is, and get it over with."

"So you'll come with me then?" He asked, holding his hand out to her. "This is going to be rather abrupt for you."

"I get it, now let's  ** _go!"_**  Sera said, and grabbed his hand.

Without a second thought, Solas vanished them in a trail of black smoke that seemed to find its way to the stables a lot faster than smoke should ever be able to travel, no doubt shocking more Orlesian nobles. When he re-materialized them, they were by the stables. He didn't wait for Sera, and she didn't fuss at him for it, knowing that time was precious. A commotion alerted him to where to better start his search, and he found the man he had witnessed in the Fade. Vael was arguing with one of the carriage drivers, but Alhasha was nowhere in sight, so he assumed her to be inside.

 

* * *

 

Sera didn't think she'd ever seen Solas so angry. Taking deep breaths to keep her from throwing up, she could only watch as Solas stalked over to where Vael was. What was the bloody git doing, tapping the guy on the shoulder like that? The look of surprise on the baddie's face before Solas punched him was priceless though, and what a punch it was too! It looked like Solas had really thrown his whole body into it!

At that, the driver looked over to Sera and gave a nod, before hastily making his retreat. He did  ** _not_**  want to be in the way of this. As it was, it didn't look like Vael was ready enough yet to put up much of a fight, and Solas didn't give him time enough to make it sporting. Solas heaved Vael up, before punching him again, and throwing him down on the ground. The man looked far beyond angry.

 **" _WHERE IS SHE?!_ "** Solas shouted, angrily.

"Away from  ** _you._ "** Vael spat, breathing heavily as he made to stand up, before Solas punched him again. "I will  ** _not_**  leave her to the likes of you. You, Fen'Harel, are an abomination in the eyes of the Maker! I will  ** _free_**  her from the curse that you have placed on her, and she will  ** _thank_**  me for it. She will be my Queen."

He barely got the word Queen out, before Solas was punching him again and again. Baddie really shouldn't have tried to goad Sol-arse like that. The elfy elf wasn't even using magic, just going after Baddie like he was fighting in a street brawl, skillfully dodging when Baddie tried to strike back, putting everything into each punch he inflicted. She was definitely telling Inky about this later. This was way better than watching him decimate the training dummies back at Skyhold.

"Fairly certain I've seen an abomination. Horrible blobby lookin' things." Sera scoffed. "They don't look a thing like Sol-arse over there."

"So I was right that they don't know what you are?" Vael asked, right before Solas went back to punching him again.

"What they do or do not know is none of your concern!" Solas scoffed, punching him again. "Now, you will tell me.  ** _WHERE. IS. SHE?!_** "

"She wouldn't want you to kill me." Vael stated, smugly, spitting out a bit of blood, managing to back away.

"You're right. She wouldn't want me to kill you, and though you do not deserve her mercy, you will have it." Solas stated, looking disgusted with Vael, standing straight. "Begone, and pray to your Maker that I  ** _never_**  find you."

"I will come back for her." Vael said, his threat empty sounding, before making his speedy exit.

"Then on that day, you  ** _will_**  die." Solas replied, softly, and Sera somehow knew that the wind would carry the message to Vael.

* * *

 

"Sera." He said, warily, fists shaking as he turned to her. "Tell me. Do you have any Friends of Red Jenny in Starkhaven? I am in need of information. This has gone on long enough, and I will not underestimate him again."

 **" _Way_**  ahead of you there, Shiny." Sera replied, with a nod. "They've been making his life miserable as discreetly as possible. Information will be easy."

"Thank you, Sera. You are not… _ **concerned**_ …about what he said?" Solas asked, coming down slowly from his anger. Punching Vael had felt good, letting him go had not. "That I…that I'm…"

"The  ** _elfiest_**  elf  _ **ever?"**_  Sera asked, arching an eyebrow at him. He nodded, supposing that was as close as he was going to get. She just scoffed, and rolled her eyes at him. "Not really. Makes sense, yeah? Explains why you're  ** _such_**  an elfy elf with your head crammed up a thousand years ago. There's no way ' _I saw it in the Fade_ ' explains everythin' you know, now does it?"

"Oh, and Sera?" Solas said, as Sera moved towards the stables.

"Oh don't worry, I ain't say'n shit about this part, Shiny." Sera snickered. "I'd sound like an elfy elf then."

"Can't have that, I suppose." Solas said, kindly, with a nod to her. Sera was really full of surprises, he mused as she left. When he opened the door to the carriage that Vael had been closest too, pain hit him hard as Alhasha kicked him in the face, knocking him onto the ground. "Umph!"

 **" _Oh!_**   _Solas_ _!_ " She cried out, in surprise, seeing that it was  ** _him_**  she'd hit. She quickly made her way to where he'd fallen. "I'm sorry! I thought…Shit. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He said, shaking his head. Suddenly, he starts laughing. "Only you,  _Alhasha_ , would get captured, attack the attempted rescuer, and then ask them if they are alright."

"I  ** _did_**  just kick you in the face." She pointed out, trying to smile even though her tears were threatening to fall. "I thought Vael was…that he…"

"What happened,  _Lath'in?_ " Solas asked, helping them both to stand. "No one could tell me where to even begin looking for you. Their best guess were those side rooms, and there were so many to check."

"He waited for you to leave." She replied. Tears streamed down her face now, but she talked as if she were only shaken up, as if she hadn't realized she was crying yet. "Then he came up from behind me with this funny smelling cloth. I didn't even have time to react, before I passed out. I woke up in the carriage just now."

"When I got here,  _Alhasha_ , he was arguing with the carriage driver." Solas said, kissing at each tear that fell. "I let him leave…I thought…it would be something you wanted, for me to show him mercy…It is not something I am willing to grant him again… _Ar shar gela…ra Ar shyr ea tas fel…ra is ema nuem na…ra Ar ema thalaer na…_ "

**… _I was afraid… that I would be too late…that he had hurt you…that I had failed you…_**

" _Ar tel'rosa ra vis nar elgar dinan, Lath'in. Tamahn air ei ise'in'na ra Ar tel'nuva sai itha dalem._ " He whispered, resting his forehead against her own.

**_I could not bear it if your spirit dies, Love. There is a fire in you that I do not wish to see destroyed._ **

"Even if it makes you worry a lot?" She asked, half teasing half curious.

"Especially then." He replied, stealing the next kiss. Each pause is a kiss he steals from her, or her from him. " _Na ane_ ** _ise,_** _Lath'in…Alhasha eil mirwen'diane…banaili eil veredais…isethe eil en'an'sal'in'sol…las'diane eil ailosol…Sai laima ra ise shyr ea sai laima ga'syri'rahna…rahna Ar lath o'na…Ar tel'uth nuven'in sai itha ra u'lea vara'na._ "

 ** _You are_** fire, ** _love…Wild and willful…destructive and chaotic…warm and comforting…hopeful and inspiring…To lose that fire would be to lose all those things…things I love about you…I never wish to see that light leave you._**

"Pffft! Can't even try an' get her  ** _naked_**  without bein' an elfy elf." Sera snorts, suddenly back. Alhasha laughs even as tears escape her. "You gonna take the carriage, and get out of here, or what?"

"Not that one, I  ** _can't."_**  Alhasha said, looking to him, her eyes wide. "I want to get out of here, but I can't get back in  ** _that_**  carriage."

"What about that one?" Cole asked, pointing to a very luxurious looking carriage, suddenly standing next to the couple.

"Sera, would the 'friends' mind?" Alhasha asked, uncertain.

"Pull'n one over on miss big wig? I doubt it." Sera chuckled, and went the get the others."By the time we're done, she will have thought it was  ** _her_**  idea."

* * *

 

It didn't take long for Sera to organize the others in the stables to come out and hitch up the horses to the fancier looking carriage. She didn't care much for elfy elf things, but she had to admit that Hawke looked happy with Solas. There was no way that she was going to admit to thinking those two looked good together though, at least not to them. She thought for sure this would make Hawke more of an elfy elf, but it seemed to bring Solas a bit closer to people people instead. Finally, when everything was good to go, she signaled to them to come over.

"Alright, it's good to go. You two get out of here, before the others come and muck it up, yeah?" Sera said, shewing them towards the carriage.

"Thank you, all of you." Hawke said, looking to everyone.

"Shall we?" Solas asked, looking to Hawke, as he opened up the carriage door for her. She got in, and he was about to head in after her, when Sera stopped him.

"She means a lot to you then, Shiny?" Sera asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"She means  ** _everything_ _,_**  Sera." Solas replied, with a slight smile.

"Good. Don't mess it up. I'd hate to have to kick your arse." Sera said, and let him go.

* * *

 

A few moments before…

A young servant girl had stolen a quiet moment away from the party. It had not been uneventful, as most of these things usually were, but it had come with its own perils. She had narrowly escaped death herself, only just barely being saved by the Inquisitor. When she had asked the Maker for more excitement in her life, this is not what she had had in mind.

Just then, she saw a noble carrying a familiar looking woman to one of the carriages. That dress…that was the Champion of Kirkwall, that was. Had something happened to her? She couldn't make out what was being said to the carriage driver, but whatever it was, the man didn't like it and started arguing with the noble. Should she go get help? Should she stay just in case they ran off?

If she left to go get help, maybe they got here in time, or maybe they wouldn't and she wouldn't be able to tell them which way they'd gone. So she stayed, and hoped that she made the right decision. Maybe it was a good thing she did stay, or she would have never seen the two elves appear out of thin air the way they did. She recognized one of them as the mysterious mage that she'd watched dance with the Lady Hawke. What she was not expecting, was for that mage to walk up to the noble and punch the ever loving mortal fuck out of him!

It didn't stop there either! The two immediately got into a fist fight, and not once did the mage use magic on the noble, instead moving about as if he had been born street fighting. For a mage to get into a physical altercation like this was unheard of, and if she wasn't watching it, she wouldn't have believed it possible. The noble was sent packing moments later, and she hid herself so that she would not be seen as he ran past. By the time that she got to look again, the mysterious mage and the Lady Hawke were sharing a loving embrace.

From the looks of things, they were about to take off in the Empress's private carriage too! The other elf that had appeared with him looked to have rallied the others stable workers together, and they sent the two love birds off in style. She waited just long enough to see them kissing through the back window, before bolting inside again. The servant girl couldn't wait to get back to work for once. The others were never going to believe this!

 

* * *

 

Sera snickered to herself. She had been right that the others were about to come out, and end up mucking it up. If those two had stayed there a second later, they would have been stopped by the ones running out there. Lavellan, Cullen, Josephine, and Varric were running out towards the stables. Upon seeing Sera, they slowed down, and looked to where she had been staring off.

"Is that _…_ ** _Hawke_**  and  _ **Solas?**_ …Oh!…They're…Are they making off with Empress Celene's private carriage?" Josephine asked, no doubt already dreading the shit storm she thought she'd have to fix.

From where they were, they could easily see Solas and Hawke through the back window. The two were kissing each other hungrily, like they needed the other for air. Even so, Solas seemed to be absentmindedly fumbling with the curtains in the back window, as if trying to find the mechanism to close them. The last thing they saw, before Solas actually managed to close the curtains, was the look the two shared before going back to kissing again. With the curtain closed, and the carriage making its way out of sight, it seemed to bring the others back to reality.

"More like they're gett'n off in Miss Big Wig's private carriage." Sera replied, with a snicker, something that had Varric chuckling too.

"Damn it, that was my plan." Cullen mumbled. This sent both Sera and Varric into laughing fits, Lavellan blushed, and Josephine sighed with dread.

"You lot missed the big fight." Sera exclaimed. "Shiny punched Prince Baddie like he was putt'n his whole body into it! Baddie didn't stand a chance, not with Shiny being as angry as he was. Didn't use magic once! Just fought him like he was people people. Baddie's face has to look like mince meat right now."

"Now  _ **that's**_  something I would have paid big money to see, Buttercup." Varric mused, story ideas already buzzing about in that brain of his.

"Some of the stable workers saw it too. You can ask them all about it." Sera replied, knowing what he meant. By the time she got through saying that, Varric was already on his way to find them.

* * *

 

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now, I suppose." Lavellan stated, merriment in her eyes. "So. Who wants to tell the Empress?"

When they got back inside, Lavellan noticed that there was a lot more chatter going on than there was when she left. Leliana and Cassandra were already on their way to greet them. Both looked like they had stars in their eyes. Big softies, the both of them, not that Lavellan would say that. It wouldn't do to be killed by one's own adviser and spy master.

"It would seem that word of Vael's attempted abduction has already circled through the Winter Palace. One of the servants saw everything." Leliana stated, as soon as they made it to them. "Though the rumours do not name who it was that tried to abduct the Lady Hawke, it does mention her by name, and the mysterious mage Solas that came to her rescue…and just  ** _how_**  he came to her rescue. A mage that is willing to get into a physical altercation, a literal street brawl, to rescue lady love? We could use this."

"It's absolutely romantic!" Cassandra said, trying to maintain a stern face, though merriment was in her eyes and smile. "Do not tell them that I said so."

"Wait. Use this? Leliana, how could you use this?" Lavellan asked, confused.

"There are rumours circulating around Solas's involvement with the Inquisition. He is an unknown apostate that is very close to you, Inquisitor, who specializes in a field of magic not well documented outside of Tevinter. His motives, his past, along with many things about him are unknown even to us." Leliana explained. "We can use this to show that no matter what his mysterious past may involve, his dedication is to the Lady Hawke, and therefore to the Inquisition. Plus, who doesn't love a good romance?"

"Be that as it may, we now have to deal with the political ramifications of those two making off with the Empress's private carriage." Josephine said, with a sigh, clearly stressing out.

"That's not the way **_I_**  heard it." Leliana said, with a secretive smile. "It is said that after being told of such a display, and of course given the Inquisitions own efforts to save her life and love, the Empress graciously gave them leave to take off with her private carriage before they could be swarmed by the guests for information. Even if that were true, there is no way Empress Celene will object, not with the good light this paints her in. She will, of course, want an audience with them for this. I am sure than many others will as well. I am certain that Josephine will be able to arrange everything."

"The only question now, is how are we going to get out of here without being mauled by the Orlesian nobility ourselves?" Cullen asked, aware that many were now seeking to gain the attentions of those with the Inquisition.

"I'm sure we'll think of something." Lavellan replied, leaning in to whisper. "Perhaps the Empress has another private carriage we could  **' _borrow_ '."**

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Solas's only concern at the moment was hearing as many of those little sounds from Alhasha as he could get her to make. The two of them seemed to be filled with an insatiable need to be as close to each other as possible. Each touch, every caress, and passion filled kiss brought them closer, made him crave more from her. She traced the scars running along his arm, the ones that mimicked her lyrium lines, and it was all he could do to hold on to her as he groaned pleasurably against her neck. It was then he realized that she had somehow managed to get him out of his outer jacket without his noticing.

"I don't remember taking that jacket off, you know." Solas said, grinning against her neck.

"That's because you didn't." Alhasha replied, shivering slightly at the sensations on her neck. He leaned back a little on a hunch, and chuckled inwardly at her blushing. "I may have destroyed it."

"Destroyed it?" He asked, curiously. She pointed down to the seat, blushing even more than before, if such a thing were possible. He looked, surprised to find the fabric torn at the seams, scattered all over the place. "I see. It is a pity I can not do the same to you. ( _She grinned triumphantly, but he had a surprise too_ ) I have the capability,  _Lath'in,_  but I simply can not bring myself to destroy  ** _this_**  dress. ( _He began slowly sliding his hand under the dress and up one of her legs to grip her thigh_ ) I have too many fantasies of slowly plying you out of it."

She just smirks, leaning into him again, their lips almost touching, and replies. "I suppose I could be talked into sparing the  ** _rest_**  of your clothes."

"How very generous of you." Solas responded, too into the moment to stop the husky sound in his voice, before quickly pulling her onto his lap.


	24. After the Winter Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has a surprise for Hawke, a hot spring all their own, and he takes full advantage to enact a few fantasies of his own. After all, how often does he get the chance to play with her hair? The night they share surprises and humbles him. Magic that has been waiting for thousands of years to be activated, does so, but they are so lost in each other that neither notices until the morning. When they do, what will become of them? And how will they handle Varric's meddling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long guys. This whole chapter is pretty much one big lemon, and they take forever for me to write, because I don't want them to be crap, but there's also plot to consider. So, here's hoping this one's actually okay.

Chapter 24

 

His eyes, she loved how they always have the look of both predator and prey to them. Sometimes she could swear they were molten silver, bright and shining like glass. Before, she had always assumed it was a trick of the light, but now…Now, as she stared into them, she wondered if he even realized he's let this much of what he was show through, the way she did sometimes. She was not willing to resist the kiss he pulled her into, and he could not resist burying his hands in her hair when he did. A knock on the door, however, prevented them from doing anything further.

“They can't come out unless you **_open!”_** Came Cole's voice.

“I hadn't even noticed the carriage had stopped.” Hawke admitted, sheepishly, when they pulled apart.

“Neither had I.” Solas replied, before stealing another kiss, and then grinned at her. “Come, I have a surprise for you, _Lath'in._ ”

She could hear the people talking as soon as the two exited the carriage. Whispers of the Ball's events reached her ears, and she vaguely wondered how they had heard of the evening's events so quickly. The people were shocked to see the Empress's private carriage, but more so to see the two that exited it. She was pleasantly surprised that the two already had their own narrative by the time they'd entered the Inn. She heard mentions of The Lady Hawke and the mysterious mage Solas, and wondered just how much they were spoken of outside of the Inquisition.

Solas, on the other hand, continued on with a slight smile. He talked with a worker or two of the Inn before moving on, his arm always around her waist. He seemed un-bothered by the whispers, but then again they'd been dealing with such things all evening. Solas had seemed to enjoy the events of the day, even before the dance, and it reminded her a bit of ancient Arlathan, of how he had been as Fen'Harel. Now though, he enjoyed that the nobility did not know what to think of him.

When they entered a room at the far end of the hallway, Hawke almost stopped instantly, but Solas must have prepared for that, because he slowly pulled her further into the room. This room, the way he had set it up, had become a private indoor hot spring. She wondered if he made it the same way he had the room that occupied the same space as the rotunda. There were large flat rocks, much like a true hot spring, and there was a small side station that held various soaps and shampoos. It all looked so inviting, how could she not love it?

“You did this?” Hawke asked, looking at it all in wonder.

“In a manner of speaking. I pulled it from a memory.” Solas replied, as he slowly lead her further into the room. “It exists in the same space as my room, like the rotunda back at Skyhold. I could not use your room, as it was where you and the other ladies of the Inquisition had chosen to set up.”

“It's beautiful, Solas.” She said, with a soft smile.

**Lemony ness warning thingy**

Before she can say anything else, he pulls her to him, a soft kiss on her lips. Gentle, thoughtful, hesitant, much different than the passion fueled kisses in the carriage. Those had been frantic, a need to make sure the other was real again. These too made her feel cherished, wanted, needed. Each fumbled over the ties and buttons that held them from each other in an unhurried but shaky pace.

He must have meant what he said too, because slowly ply her out of her dress is exactly what he did. When all of the clothes fell to the floor, Solas gently guided her into the hot spring. Being in a hot spring had to be the most relaxed feeling in the world, she decided. All her worries simply faded away, and the two simply sat there for a time, soft caresses and gentle touches.

* * *

 

“There's something I've been wanting to do ever since that first day you showed me everything the bracelet kept hidden.” Solas said, running his fingers through her hair, breaking the silence. “May I?”

“What?” She asked, with a pleasant sigh. Turning slightly, she saw that his other hand had a bottle of shampoo at the ready, and arched an eyebrow at him. “You want to…wash my hair? That's a fantasy for you?”

“Yes. It is… _ei el'u'nuva…lath'sal'ina._ ” Solas admitted, as she turned her back to him, giving him permission to wash her hair. As he lathered her hair, massaging the shampoo into it, he found himself voicing his thoughts again. “ _Vallasleala josal ove ara mira, alhasha telir la'na.…Thu tyr Ar tel lath min?_ ”

**_A secret wish…to fondle the hair of one I love. - Ink running through my fingers, wild just like you…How could I not love this?_ **

After rinsing her hair, she turns around now to face him. He is surprised by the kiss, how gentle and soft it is, more so that she moves to sit behind him now. He has no hair she can wash, but doesn't voice his objection, and is soon glad he didn't. Alhasha had taken some of the shampoo or body wash, and began massaging his scalp with it. Her fingers felt amazing, and he was pleasantly surprised when she continued on to his neck and shoulders, working along the knots she found as she went.

“ _Nar da'lavun ane tandros, Lath'in_.” Solas groaned, pleasantly, as she worked the knots out of his upper back.

**_Your hands are magic, Love._ **

Her hands traced the scars, the red lyrium had left on his back outlining her own lyrium lines, as she worked the knots out of his back. **_Fenedhis lasa!_ ** The things that **_did_** to him, pulling sounds from him that he was used to hearing from her, the water on his bare skin adding to the sensations he was given. He was pulled out of his thoughts when she began trailing kissing along his shoulder and neck, sending shivers through him. After a moment, he held her hands in his own, resting his head against the crook of her neck as he leaned back against her. He couldn't help but grin against her skin when she shivered as he began kissing along her jawline, knowing that she was just as affected by him as he was by her.

“ _Ir gela ra na'ane sadaer i'em, Ara'aenor._ ” Solas said, before turning to face her completely. “ _Ir el'tas mael'len sai lasa'na'vara mala ra na ane emma_.”

**_I'm afraid that you're trapped/stuck with me, my prey. - I am much too selfish to let you go now that you are mine._ **

Her eyes light up, a mischievous glint to them, as she grins at him with that openly wolfish grin of hers. It is one he shares, before pulling her into a kiss. It is unhurried, un-rushed. In this he puts how much has changed since meeting her, how he can not part from her now, what he hopes their future will be. She leans back slightly, breaking the kiss, and fixes him with a smirk.

“ _Eis vis na tyr tor'josa em_.” She replies, playfully, before biting on her lower lip.

**_As if you could outrun me_ **

That was it, all he needed to hear, before he was on her. She gasped, not expecting it, before he stole it in a passion fueled kiss. Her shock did not last long, before she began to return the kiss with equal fervor. He knew her mind had always been prepared for him to run; he **_had_** told her he would. It seemed she didn't know quite what to do now that he's decided to **_stop_** running. When she breaks the kiss, the two are near breathless, and still he steals a small kiss every so often.

He doesn't know if she's ready, doesn't know if she wants this, and he is not about to push her again. She seems hesitant now, as she returns each kiss they share. Alhasha Hawke has never been one to back away from anything, something he knows all too well now, and yet…Now that her prey no longer runs from her, she doesn't seem to know what to do. He does not miss the blush that tints her cheeks, or the way her eyes dart away from his, almost as if she's embarrassed by what she's thinking.

“ _Alhasha,_ listen to me. I will not _…Ar shor tel vera o'na ahn na ane tel nuven'in sai lasa…Thuast ar'an te min'nydha, ar'an te eis nar'vali._ ” Solas said, softly. “ _Dirtha'em…ahn shyr na ema o'em?…_ ”

**_I will not take from you what you are not willing to give…Whatever we do this night, we do at your pace – Tell me…what would you have of me?…_ **

* * *

 

“I don't know what's wrong with me.” Hawke mumbled, not looking at him, thoroughly embarrassed.

“There is **_nothing_** wrong with you, _Alhasha._ You are nervous. Though we have done much, sex is…a barrier, in its own way, one you have not crossed, and one you are hesitant to cross because of Vael.” Solas supplied, thoughtfully, as he moved to sit close to her. “I have a theory, _Lath'in._ Until now, with what happened before, you have wanted to be ready without truly being so, and so your magic rose up to protect you in its way, compelling others to be drawn to you in order to prevent you from doing something you weren't ready for, perhaps in an effort to make sure that you never experience that fear again.”

“You speak of my magic as if it is alive.” Hawke chided, playfully, though she did think on his words.

“But it **_is_ ,** _Lath'in._ ” He said, with a slight and thoughtful grin. “Magic **_lives_ _._** It breathes, feels, feeds, makes mistakes, learns, just as we do, **_because_** we do.”

He shifts slightly, one arm across her for balance, as he kisses along her shoulder.

“Your magic reacts to me…pulls me to you…demands that I realize what you mean to me… _ra na ane el'o lath'in…ra na ane ara vhen'an bre nuven'in…_ ” His voice sending shivers through her as he began kissing along her neck. “It is as much a part of you…as your hair…or your eyes…or your laugh…and so I love it…as I love you. _Mai eolasa min, Lath'in, eis'el'eis Ar ath'or'na, mai tas te na ath'or'em…_ ” He moved to where he could put his weight onto his left arm, and caress her face with his right. “ _Vis ar'an ane aelaes sasha, eolasa ra Ar shor tel vara_ _na._ _Ar shor tel josa…tel o'na…o'min…o ahn ar'an ane sahl'in…Ar sildeara na in ara lath'in bell'ana, Lath'in…Thuast na shor ema or'em air nar sai ama, Ar lasa or ara'len sai na revas_.”

**_that you are more than where my love lives…that you are my hearts deepest wish… - So know this, Love, as much as I belong to you, so too do you belong to me… - If we are ever apart, know that I will not leave_ you _, I will not run…not from you… from this…from what we are now…I feel you in my heart always, Love…Whatever you will have of me is yours to take, I give of myself to you freely._**

“You really mean that, don't you.” Hawke said, in wonderment, studying his expression. She had never seen him look so intense before, not even when she'd been in Arlathan.

“It is as you said to me that night by the fire. The moment I saw you, it was already too late for me to run.” Solas replied, stealing another kiss. “I was caught before I knew.”

“And what if I told you I wanted everything?” She asked, huskily.

* * *

 

“Then you would have it.” Solas replied, instantly.

The words are out of his mouth before he realizes what he's said, though he doesn't regret them after, knowing that he means them. He knows she is his future; more importantly, he **_wants_** to be her future. There is a spark of magic somewhere in the room, but he does not pay it any mind at the moment. His focus was a bit preoccupied with the beautiful woman zeroing in on him as if he were prey again.

It is strange to him, and yet fascinating, that he would enjoy being hunted. With others he had always been in control, but with her he never seemed to be for long. This was something he somehow knew she needed this time, to control how the night would go, and so he gave up what control he could. Her kisses taste like the apple spiced wine they'd served at the Ball, and he revels in the sounds she makes when he moves to nibble along her neck. She'd moved to straddle him during all of this, and though he isn't sure if that was a good plan or not, he tried to ease things with caresses and kisses to everywhere within reach that would give her pleasure.

* * *

 

It wasn't like she didn't know what to expect, but there isn't as much pain as she'd been warned there would be. Many embarrassing conversations with her mother and Isabela had been had on this subject, but no amount of conversation could have prepared her for how hungry his eyes looked as she took him in, or the many sensations she felt as she did so. She'd expected him to take control, to show her what to do, but he never did. Then again, she thought as she began to move with him, the way he reacted to her touch made her think he preferred to lose the control he always seemed to have, and he had to know how important it was that she have control this time. The way he gripped her hips, she was sure she was going to have permanent crescent moon scars forever, and she loved it.

The sounds he made sent thrills through her, and he would tighten and loosen his grip on her hips as they found a steady rhythm. The way he gasped under her attentions told her he was already close to losing the control he had, and she wondered just how much she would need to push him to get him to let go of the rest of it, his loving words becoming broken as his breath hitched sporadically. So she set about trying to get him to do just that. He made slight sounds of protest when she leaned back away from his hold, looked absolutely distressed when she denied him as he made to kiss along her breasts. She allowed her head to fall back as her eyes closed, and she began to caress her stomach and breasts, never once stopping her rhythm as she rode him.

“ _Sathan…Sulahn'ean…lasa'em dera'na._ ” He said, somewhere between asking and trying not to beg, as he watched her touch herself. Unable to hold himself still, he moved with her, lightly thrusting as she moved her hips against his own.

**_Please…Songbird…let me touch you_ **

“ _Te na sila Ar shyr'tel ithal?_ ” She asked, using every bit of will she had to keep the wavering from her voice as she tried to sound authoritative. He looked uncertain, caught between pleasure and confusion.

**_Did you think I wouldn't notice?_ **

“ _Lath'in,_ I _…Sathan…sathan…_ ” He pleaded, trying once again to touch her, sliding one of his hands up her waist and brushing his thumb along the underside of her breast.

**_Love,…Please…please…_ **

She took the hand in question into one of her own, and lightly sucked on the tip of his thumb before looking back at him. Just a little bit more of his control was gone. She could practically see him shaking as she continued her ministrations. The colouring in his eyes was practically gone, the way he stared at her hungrily. Each breath he took seemed more like a gasp, a bid to keep what control he had left.

“This is our hot spring…the one you caught me in.” She stated, biting her lip to keep from moaning.

“It **_is_.”** Solas admitted, with a bit of a breathy moan, his head tilted back slightly. “ _Lath'in_ , _please_ …I want…I want…”

“ _Lasa'em itha._ ” She insisted, slowing her movements, causing him to groan and his hips to jerk at the missed movement.

**_Let me see/Show me_ **

“I should not…I could…I could hurt you, _Lath'in_ …I don't want to…hurt you… _Lath'in_ please…” He pleaded, trying to pull her back to him. She let him, but only so that she could nip at his ear, eliciting a small moan from him.

“I was told I could have everything, and I have decided I want that last…little…bit…of control you haven't given up yet, _Fen'Harel_.” She said, softly, her lips still close to his ear while one of her hands traces up his chest. “ _Laima, eil lasa'em itha ahn na isala_.”

**_Let go, and show me what you want_ **

“ _Dir'vhen'an em…dir'vhen'an me ra na shor dirtha'em…vis Ar nuem na…eil Ar shor dian._ ” He half demanded/pleaded, eyes searching hers when she pulls back to look at him, and she knew this was his last attempt to get her to back away from what she was asking. “ _Dir'vhen'an em._ ”

**_Promise me…promise me that you will tell me…if I hurt you…and I will stop – Promise me_ **

“ _Ar dir'vhen'an, Ara'nas._ ” She promised, barely getting the words out before she found herself pressed in between him and one of the larger rocks along the edge of the hot spring, and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist.

**_I promise, My soul_ **

He didn't waste time with words, stealing away any breath she had with a kiss, and he let go of the last bit of control he had as he fucked her up against the boulder. She clung to him, pleading, gasping, begging for more, and he gave. Oh, he **_gave_ ,** that first orgasm rocking through her almost without warning, and still he gave, even as she lost herself in the feeling of it. She moved against him, giving as good as she got, loving the way he held onto her as he lost himself in what he wanted. He'd been right though; Had he tried this that night at the hot spring, he would have hurt her.

“ _Lath'in_ …you feel… _Na sildeara la vhen'an_ …” She heard him murmer against her skin as he nibbles along her neck. “Mine… _ara vhen'an…isalan'na…eilar…nuven'na'el…_ ”

**_You feel like home – My home…want you…always…need you more…_ **

“ _Vhen'an…ara vhen'an…_ ” She agrees, her voice hitching as she clings to him. She's so close she can feel it, as his thumb makes slow circles around her clit, and she digs her fingernails into him as she clings.

**_Home…my home…_ **

“ _Sa'el, Lath'in…sa'el…rosa'da'din sul'em…sa'el…Ir vyr…rosemah'da'din…mai vyr…mai vyr…_ ” Solas pleaded, close to her ear. The feeling of it sends her over the edge she's been clinging to, and he continues thrusting, carrying her through.

**_One more, Love…one more…come for me…one more…I'm close…about to come…so close…so close…_ **

She's barely come down from the high, when he pulls out of her, coming in the hot spring as he bites into just above her collarbone.

“ _Lath'in_ , I…” He kisses her before he can say anything else. “Did I hurt you?…I know you wanted, but I…I shouldn't have lost control, and I…I'm…”

“Solas, if you apologize for one of the best moments of my life, I'm going to seriously hurt you.” She pretends to scold him, before playfully nipping at his bottom lip, and trying to use what she hopes sounds like a sultry voice as she adds. “Now, what do you say about taking this to a bed? I promise, I'll let you be as gentle as you want.”

“As you wish, _Lath'in._ ” He replied, with a predatory grin, before picking her up bridal style to do exactly as she wanted.

* * *

 

He woke up first, feeling pleasantly achy, and stretched out in the bed. He'd known that he hadn't hurt her the night before, but he'd been so caught up in the moment that he hadn't thought about the connection to check. So he'd taken her at her word, and gently worshiped her body for as long as she let him. No matter what she said, Solas understood that she'd be in some discomfort this morning. So he drew up a hot bath for her, but before he could wake her up, there was a knock at the door.

**End of Lemon for now**

He quickly threw on a robe, before answering the door, only to be surprised by an Inn worker.

“I was told to bring this to your room around breakfast time.” The young man said, gesturing to the food cart at his side. “I hope that's alright.”

“Of course.” Solas replied, after quickly looking over his shoulder to make sure Alhasha was still under the covers. “Come in, but please be quiet.”

“Of course.” The young man said, and proceeded to push the cart inside. “We hope you enjoy everything. It was a lot of fun creating something for the two of you, Messere Solas.”

“I don't understand.” He admitted, surprised. “I **_had_** ordered breakfast for the room, but…”

“Word was sent from The Winter Palace about what happened.” The young man replied, as he made his way to the door.

“The assassination attempt on the Empress?” Solas asked, in confusion.

“The rescue of Lady Hawke. It has been all the others have wanted to talk about, that a mage would get into a physical fight for lady love.” The young man answered with a grin. “There isn't a single person here who doesn't love a good romance, and so the other workers and myself pulled together to make something extra for the two of you.”

“I… _ma serannas._ ” Solas said, surprised at such a gesture.

**_Thank you_ **

“ _Na ane vhalla_.” The young man replied, before giving a slight bow and exiting the room, once again surprising Solas.

**_You are welcome_ **

A slight grumpy grumbling sound alerted him to her attempts at waking up, and he smiled. He had not felt this care free in a very long time, and as he made his way back into the bed, he wondered if they could disappear for a week here and get away with it. Last night had been…more than he'd ever expected. That she had allowed him control by telling him to lose it, had been both freeing and humbling, that she would want him to lose that control had surprised him more than anything ever had…After that may be permanently seared into his mind, the sounds she made when they'd finally made it to the bed…

He'd been gentle that time, kissing along her lyrium lines, drawing her out of herself. She was so very responsive, and he loved that he could get her to make those little sounds he adored so much. Not that she hadn't returned the favor, sneaky little minx that she was. The scars he had that mimicked her lines were just as sensitive as hers, and she used that to her advantage. Though he had not said as much, he had a feeling that she knew that he thoroughly enjoyed that she could make him beg.

Her back was to him when he slid under the covers once more, and he could not help but run his fingers over the whip marks he saw there. That was something they had not talked about, how she had come by those. She grumbled again, not quite awake, and he took his time running his fingers over her. He could see where his fingernails had pierced her hips, where he had bit along her shoulder. Just thinking about it made him want to wake her up to continue those activities.

“mmm…Good morning…” She mumbled, her voice husky from sleep.

“It is indeed a good morning, _Lath'in._ ” Solas replied, continuing to run hins fingers along her hip and back. “I am almost afraid to ask this, in fear that I will ruin it, but I find myself curious. We have never spoken of how these happened. ( _He runs his fingers along the whip marks now_ ) Is that something you would be willing to tell me now, or would it ruin this good morning?”

“It would.” She said, her voice sounding like she was retreating into herself again. His fears were assuaged though, when she rolled over and snuggled into him, though she still looks saddened. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

**Lemon Warning thingy**

“It may be wrong of me, _Lath'in_ , but I like to imagine that I caused them.” Solas said, softly, causing her to look up at him in alarm and confusion, though that quickly fades as he caresses the scars themselves “…that they are not whip marks, but scars where fingernails have dug in…”

She looks like she wants to kiss him, and he brings his face in just close enough to where she can almost feel him. He continues caressing her back, occasionally digging into it slightly with his fingernails. The look on her face is exquisite, and the slight whimpering sound she makes only adds to it. He may get a thrill from the fact that she can make him beg, but he also loves the near innocent pleading he can see in her eyes now. It feeds into his wolfish nature, and he can not help but tease her with it now.

“ _Ar nuvi'sulen na tarsul em la'min…_ ” He says, swiftly maneuvering her to be above him, and her hair cascades down around them. Her eyes are wide now, and he is suddenly alarmed that maybe he has overstepped somehow. “ _Alhasha_?…Is this…Should I not have?…”

**_I imagine you above me like this…_ **

“Tell me more about this fantasy of yours.” She says, breathlessly, not answering him, but he shakes his head.

“I need to know…You set the pace, _Lath'in._ ” Solas stated, running one of his hands through her hair. “We can stop. We don't have to continue. I will not force you, ever, _Alhasha._ ”

“Please, Solas. I **_did_** ask.” Alhasha before taking to nibbling along his neck and collarbone. “Tell me, _Fen'Harel_ …this fantasy of yours…”

“ _Ar nuvi'sulen na tarsul em la'min…nual em eis telir na te…_ ” Solas continues, understanding that she's given her consent, as he gently pulls her down till they are joined. She wastes no time, finding a rhythm that makes them both feel good. “ _Ar nuvi'sulen na la…nar dhula da'lav'dian telir ei da…_ (He begins doing these things after he's said them) _ra na nera melahn Ar dhava nar duine mai…ra na josi nar miringal dur ara duin si vir Ar nua na_ …”

**_I imagine you above me like this…teasing me as only you can… - I imagine you like…your hair pulled just a little…that you enjoy when I kiss your breasts so…that you run your fingernails down my chest the way I tease you…_ **

She reacted to his fingernails scrapping her back in much the same fashion that he had the night before. He combined that with the gentle but firm caresses he knew she liked best, and it played well into their morning love making. Still though, if she couldn't keep her hands off of tracing the red lyrium scars to get him to lose control again, he'd have to tie them up or something…Maybe he could save that for later. For now, he simply moved them to where he was on top this time, and pinned her wrists above her head with his fingers. It would not do for him to come undone before her.

Her cheeky and completely unapologetic grin told him she knew exactly what he had been thinking, but it was soon lost in the sounds she made, and soon the two were becoming undone by each other. When the two had recovered enough to move again, he brought her to the hot bath he'd made, thankfully still comfortably hot due to the dwarven runes along the side of the tub, where he'd indulged in his fantasy of washing her hair again. She joked that it was because he had no hair of his own, but didn't stop him either. She also surprised him with sex in the bathtub, something he barely made it through without coming inside of her. The way she rolled her hips just _so_ was enough to almost undo him, but he didn't think she'd want the possibility of children just yet, and so he resisted…barely…until they could have that conversation.

**Lemon end**

* * *

 

Drying herself off after getting out of the bathtub, she paused after wrapping the towel around herself. She wasn't seeing this, she wasn't seeing this, but she was. There, on her left hand, on her ring finger, was the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen in her life. The band itself was an intricate knotwork of leaves and vines in some kind of slightly green metal that delicately cradled three deep rich warm red garnets that reminded her of drops of blood. Red truly was her favorite colour, but she couldn't think of a single jeweler skilled enough to create this ring, which meant that he'd had to commission this.

“Solas, did you forget to ask me something when we woke up this morning?” She asked, playfully, to which he looked genuinely confused. She held up her hand in response to his confused look.

The look on his face was priceless, changing from confusion to shock to pure joy, and then she wasn't alone. He was suddenly in front of her wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in, kissing her passionately as they stood there. His hands caressed her skin, running his fingers along her lyrium lines. It was only the overwhelmingly loud growling sound that came from her stomach that stopped either of them. The unexpected sound immediately made the two of them laugh, and he gestured for her to get back in bed.

“It seems we are being treated to breakfast in bed, Lath'in. The workers somehow have heard of what happened in the Winter Palace, and wanted to wish us well.” Solas said, jovial, bringing the cart closer to them, and began setting out things for the two of them to eat.

“The assassination attempt on the Empress?” She asked, momentarily distracted and slightly confused.

“The attempted abduction of you.” Solas corrected, and then added with a slight grin. “Apparently it is not often that the Lady Hawke needs rescuing, and they seem to be fascinated that a mage would get into a physical fight for lady love. According to the inn worker I spoke with, we are the talk of the evening, after Lavellan's rescue of the Empress, of course. I can only imagine how exaggerated the story is going to be. Master Tethras will surely be in his element with this.”

“ _Solas_.” Hawke said, hoping the warning in her voice would be enough to bring him back to the matter at 'hand'. He sighed, and gestured for her hand, taking it into his own when she offered it.

“In my defense, the magic was suppose to put the ring into **_my_** hand first.” Solas stated, a bit sheepishly. She arched an eyebrow at him. “ _Alhasha_ , I…(sigh)… _Fenedhis lasa_ , woman, you don't ever make things easy, do you? I… _Ir nar, vis na shor ema em_.”

**_I am yours, if you will have me_ **

The biggest most mischievous wolfish grin spreads across Hawke's face, and she just couldn't help herself as she replied. “ _Vana manean, Na'ema eilar shael emma._ ”

**_Silly fish, You've always been mine_ **

He had begun stealing kisses before she could answer seriously. “ _Lath'in…Ar lath na_ … _ara vhen'an bre nuven'in…sathan…_ ”

**_Love…I love you…My heart's deepest wish…please…_ **

“You really want to marry me?” She asked, even more nervous than she had been last night. “I mean, this isn't some rescue the damsel in distress thing, is it? Or some kind of lust filled decision? Solas, I'm **_crazy_ ,** and I worry you all the time. What if you find out something you hate about me, or-”

“ _Alhasha_ , that ring has been waiting for you since you withheld your voice from me in _Arlathan._ It has been waiting for me to stop running, and I am.” Solas stated, surprising her into silence. “You do not have to answer now. I **_will_** have to leave this place eventually, my own goals will require it, but I meant every word I said to you last night. When I leave, I want you to come with me.”

“You do? Really?” She asked, not knowing why she was so surprised by this.

“ _Alhasha_ , while I do not believe both worlds can be saved, I would treasure the chance to be wrong. If there is anyone who could help me find a way to save them both, it would be you.” Solas insisted. “What I **_am_** sure of, _Lath'in_ , is that I want to spend every morning I can being trapped by that crazy amount of bed head of yours. I want to walk the Fade with you, travel this world with you, and when it is time to take a rest from it all, I want to walk in _Uth'then'era_ with you, and repeat the process over and over again, until either this world ends or we walk new worlds, and after-umph!”

She'd practically glomped him after that, throwing her arms around him, losing her towel in the process. “If you can put up with my craziness, I think I can handle yours.” She stated, before kissing him.

“Is that a yes then?” He asked, a bit out of breath, teasingly.

“Of course, it's a yes!” She insisted, before she began kissing him again. “You crazy…arrogant…insufferable…stubborn ass elf!”

The ring glowed brightly for a moment, and both of them had backed away from each other to see what would happen. When the piece of jewelry stopped glowing, Hawke turned her hand this way and that, looking for a difference. They found it quickly. Inscribed along the band, the promise neither could break. _Ar shor eilar vena na._

* * *

 

Varric and the others had fared quite well at the end of the Ball at the Winter Palace. He was already circulating the story of how Solas had rescued Hawke, adding his own embellishments, of course. Upon getting back to the Inn, no one could find them. More accurately, no one would tell him what room they were staying in, and not one of his friends was willing to help him knock on doors to find them.

So the next morning he waited, and watched, and chatted up a few of the inn workers about the happenings of the Winter Palace. It didn't take him long to spot a room service delivery that looked a little bit more extravagant than the usual bit that had been going through that morning. He made quick work talking with that person, chatting him up about everything he could, and soon they were sharing stories of what had happened last night at the Winter Palace. After confirming that that was indeed Messere Solas's room, and that the two were staying in there instead of Hawke's room, Varric thought he'd give them a bit more alone time. He wasn't completely insensitive, after all.

He apparently hadn't given them **_enough_** time, or hadn't thought that the two were taking full advantage of every bit of alone time they could get. For whatever crazy reason, he could not stop himself from opening the door, and immediately wished he hadn't. Flint and Solas were sitting up in bed, completely wrapped up in each other, and hadn't even noticed his ill timed interruption. A towel hung about her, hiding just enough of her that he wasn't getting a complete eyeful, as she worked to undo the buttons on Solas's shirt.

Solas was moving his hands all over Flint, firm but gentle caresses that were sparking a reaction from her lyrium lines. This was lesson enough, Varric decided as he unable to move from the spot, no more adventuring for the dwarf; It was just too risky. Before he knew it was happening, Solas had reached for a tray on the food cart and flung it at him, hitting the dwarf square in between the eyes, all without having looked at him. When Varric fell backwards out of the room, he could have sworn he saw Flint wave her left hand, using a force spell to close the door, still busying herself in a kiss.

* * *

 

“Tiny, you got any of that maraas-lok?” Varric asked, some time later, finding some of them in the inn's dining area.

“Yea. Why?” Iron Bull asked, before eyeing him for a moment. “Why do you need it?”

“No reason, I just need to pour it directly onto my eyeballs. I'm hoping it will make me go blind. Maybe I can use it to scrub my brain.” Varric admitted, as he sat down. The entire table laughed at him. “Laugh all you want, but what I saw will settle bets if you have them. That's the only consolation price I'll get for my sudden case of blindness.”

“Messere Tethras?” One of the Inn workers called out after a while, and upon seeing him react, made their way to him. “I was instructed to give you this message. ( _Pulls out piece of paper, and begins to read_ ) 'Pull that stunt again, you hairy little gnome, and I'll make sure your **_hairy little gnome_ ** never sees use again'. ( _That sends everyone into laughing fits all over again_ ) Also, there's a bit of elvish here, but I can't translate it. Sorry.”

“Here, I can get that.” Iron Bull said, with a bit of a chuckle. Lavellan had yet to enter the dining area, probably for the same reasons as Flint and Solas. “Oh, well this is…Well, it's been nice knowing you, Varric.”

“Cut it out, Tiny. What does it say?” Varric asked, dreading it already.

“Nothing much. It's just a note to me and Dorian from Solas saying that you've seen Hawke naked, and we now have all rights to kill you.” Iron Bull noted, before looking over at him. “I suggest you run.”

Varric didn't waist another moment before he was out that door.

“Is that really what it said?” Dorian asked, eyeing the paper with suspicion.

“No, but I'm willing to bet he'll run half way to Skyhold before he figures that out.” Iron Bull replied, with a grin.

“On those short stubby legs?” Dorian scoffed, though he couldn't help but laugh. “Doubtful.”

“Care to bet on it?” Iron Bull asked, with a grin, and suddenly the entire table was throwing bets around.

 


	25. The Return to Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well wishes, and nosy questions are the theme for the trip back. All in all, it's a good trip, but when they get back there's a Chantry Sister to deal with. Hawke's way of getting rid of her is not Josephine approved, but things are amusing nonetheless. Hawke's revenge on Varric is embarrassing, but she isn't above throwing in some wingman things too, and he isn't the only one she aims to embarrass.

Chapter 25

 

The trip back was nearly uneventful…nearly. Solas and Hawke were teased relentlessly for their stealing of the empress's carriage, mainly all of the events they would have to go through because of it. Josephine had made sure that she accepted as many invitations for them as she could, before Lavellan had to stop her, in order to make sure that this type of frivolity did not happen again. Neither of them looked the least bit apologetic. In fact, Hawke smirked at each name Josephine mentioned, and eventually the woman gave up trying to make them feel guilty.

Most everyone traveled along in pairs, riding on horses or in carriages that held their things. Many noted how Hawke and Solas **_seemed_** around each other now, the language of their unspoken conversations were different. A caress was so much more now, spoke louder than before. The two were practically in their own world. Every once in a while, one of the others would chuckle, and at least once, Cullen could be heard muttering 'damned elf is making the rest of us look bad'.

It did not go unnoticed that Varric was a nervous wreck. The lengths Hawke was willing to go to in order to embarrass someone for revenge was well known by many, especially by him. He had written all of her stories, after all. Some things had not needed embellishing, while others had had to be dialed back a bit. He now had the added worry of Solas, who seemed more than happy to watch the dwarf squirm.

Eventually though, the curiosity just got to be too much. So when camp had been set up, and guard posts had been established, the party made their move. While few of the women went with Hawke to a hot spring she'd found, Solas had stayed behind to gather his things for a bath. Neither were under the delusion that it was anything other than the groups attempts to gather information, but while Solas scowled at the idea that they would be so nosy, Hawke just gave him a conspiratorial wink as she left.

* * *

 

“Alright, out with it.” Surprisingly, it was not Varric that said this, but Blackwall. “What are your intentions with Hawke?”

“How is it that you think you lot are fit to judge my intentions?” Solas asked, looking over at them in annoyance. Blackwall was about to object, when Solas elaborated. “The Snoop ( _points to Varric_ ), the Spy ( _points to Iron Bull_ ), the Show off ( _points to Dorian, who just grins with amusement_ ), and the Haunted ( _points to Blackwall_ ), and you lot think you are fit to judge my intentions?”

“Doesn't answer the question.” Blackwall stated, undeterred. Solas actually stared at him for a moment, surprised with how determined Blackwall seems to be about this.

“If this is about a bet, so help me…” Solas warned, threateningly.

“His question actually **_is_** concern.” Iron Bull stated, before cracking a grin. “The rest of us are just innocent bystanders with a mixture of concern and bets.”

“I suppose there is something to be said for your honesty, Iron Bull, though I question whether or not this group would know the meaning of the words innocent bystanders.” Solas conceded, with a sigh. “I have asked _Alhasha_ to marry me. Is that clear enough to everyone of my intentions? (Everyone starts tossing Dorian coin) _Ma ghilana mir din'an!_ Do you all have bets placed on what she plans to do to master Tethras for the stunt he pulled this morning?”

**_Guide my soul towards death / Kill me now_ **

“Like you have to ask.” Dorian said, a bit smuggly. “Of **_course_ ,** there's bets on that. What were you thinking anyway, Varric?”

“Honestly? I thought they'd have been **_done_** by then.” Varric admitted, sporting a rare blush. This sends the others, except for Solas ( _and even he is shaking his head trying to hide a grin_ ), into laughter. “That was more of Flint than I ever wanted to see.”

“That reminds me. You've broken the rules, Varric, and saw Hawke naked. The consequences of which would be if Solas doesn't kill you, we do.” Dorian stated, no longer grinning. “That is a marvelously beautiful and fascinating woman, and you could have interrupted more than a simple interlude with that stunt. She'll more than likely have your bits on a fire for that, so I think Bull and I don't need to kill you ourselves. More than likely, Solas or Hawke will kill you themselves.”

“Why is it that you two have this…rule, or whatever it is…for Varric?” Solas asked, a bit confused.

“Nosy friend, plus budding romance, and you have to **_ask_** why we tried to keep Varric from being his usual nosy self?” Dorian asked, with a chuckle.

“Point taken.” Solas conceded.

* * *

 

“So, are you going to tell us?” Leliana asked, after sinking into the hot spring. “What was he like?”

“Absolutely not! That's private.” Hawke said, turning several shades of red.

“Awe, she's blushing. It's adorable.” Lavellan cooed. Hawke sank lower into the water.

“Was it romantic? Was he gentle with you?” Cassandra asked, curiously, blushing almost as hard as Hawke. “He definitely seems the type to care about your needs before his own.”

“I still can't believe you stole Empress Celene's private carriage.” Josephine scolded, though it lost its bite considering she was groaning happily in a hot spring with a smile on her face. “The image you two made, kissing while stealing away in it, was positively romantic.”

“Did he tell you to drop em and rebuild the empire?” Sera asked, snorting with laughter. Everyone laughed at that.

“Maker's Balls, Sera!” Hawke snickered, and then calmed down, hesitantly adding. “He…Well, you know what you said about Cullen?”

“Lots of men under him, needs a woman over him, because…positions?” Sera asked, after a moment.

“Solas is like that too…at least sometimes.” Hawke said, and then sank back into the Hot Spring try and hide her blush. More chuckling from the other women.

“Do we get to see the ring?” Sera asked, curiously. Everyone looked at her in surprise. “What? He's an **_elfy_** elf. They only **_do_** things like this when they want it to **_mean_** something, and Shiny definitely wants it to mean _**something,**_ so ring. Not that difficult, yeah?”

Hawke raised her hand out of the water to reveal the ring. It was definitely not the normal ring that one would think to give. She hadn't really explained that part to him back in Arlathan, viewing that a person's natural taste in jewelry was more important than some silly standard. He could have given her a wooden ring, and she would have loved it. Vivienne definitely seemed to approve, but looked saddened, and Hawke decided not to press it.

“I'm glad that you are happy, My dear.” Vivienne said, kindly. “Your love doesn't know how lucky he is.”

“Thanks, guys. I don't really get to do the whole girl thing very much. It's nice to have this.” Hawke admitted. Then, out of curiosity. “So…What kind of things am I suppose to be telling you right now?”

“Only the most sordid and scandalous of details, of course.” Leliana replied, with a sly grin. “Did you not gossip with your friends in Kirkwall like this?”

“Sort of? Isabela scarred my brain with the most perverse stories. I'm going to have to thank her for that later. Being on top really is the best.” Hawke said, absentmindedly, sending the others laughing. “Merrill thought talking dirty meant literally talking about dirt; and Aveline tried to court a guardsman with metal marigolds, 3 sheaves of wheat, and a **_goat_ _._ ”**

* * *

 

Even as close as they were to them, the men should not have heard them. Yet, out of nowhere, they heard riotous laughter. Unable to keep it to himself, Blackwall burst into laughter too, and then suddenly they all were. Solas left not long after that, after things calmed down between them all. He did not see the look that crossed between the rest of them as he left.

It was relaxing, to be in the hot springs, and it helped him collect his thoughts. Asking her to marry him hadn't factored into his plans, then again, when he'd made those plans it had been without the memory of her. It hit him then, the life he was condemning her to, and he couldn't breathe. She knew every dark secret he possessed, and still she stayed, even when he knew it would cause her pain. It took a lot longer than he'd likely ever admit to anyone for him to calm down, and by that point Dorian was relaxing in the hot spring as well and seemingly waiting for him to come back to himself.

“Finally back, are we?” Dorian asked, seeing Solas breathing easier. Solas, in surprise, turns to see him there. “Good. I was beginning to think you'd never get out of your own head. We have things to discuss, and a self induced panic simply won't do, you understand.”

“Self induced panic?” Solas asked, incredulously.

“So you **_weren't_** thinking about how her life is going to be completely different after this? How condemned you think she'll be because of who you are?” Dorian asked, arched eyebrow at the ready, and waited. Solas's mouth actually fell open in rare shock. “Oh, don't be surprised. You were muttering about it just now.”

“Things to discuss?” Solas asked, not liking the sound of that.

“Yes, several things actually. I did a bit of research, you know, after you ended up taking some of the red lyrium poisoning.” Dorian said, amusement clear in his voice. “The Commander had actually asked about Kindred Souls, and considering what he knew was the stuff out of story books, I offered to find it for him. I think he's trying to work out if our dear Inquisitor is his True Kindred Soul, like Hawke is for you. The thing is, when I went asking after the research, I found some rather interesting details I had forgotten. Not to mention, my father is now ecstatic. He mistakenly thinks I'm trying to find mine.”

Solas sighed inwardly, Dorian did like to rattle on a bit, before repeating. “Dorian. Things to discuss?”

“Oh, right. That. You deflected that question back there, when Blackwall asked after your intentions for Hawke.” Dorian noted, and Solas immediately tensed. “I don't know if you've noticed, but we've all become rather protective of her. Simply asking her to marry you does not tell us how you will treat her. You have been alone for a very long time. Solas. It can not be easy to adjust, but when something happens, is your first thought of her or yourself?”

“That is something that has not been easy for me to correct, Dorian. It is…easy…to forget that she is not only **_willing_** to help me, but also **_capable_** of helping me.” Solas admitted. “I am use to being alone. I tend to think that way, and if I firmly believe I am right, I tend to carry out that decision without considering how it will affect others. I am aware that is what has lead to several incidents, and that I have hurt _Alhasha_ because of them.”

“That's what I was afraid of.” Dorian remarked, with a sigh. “You have a very strong willed woman on your hands, you know. Your attempts to hide, run, or push her away to protect her have got to stop. You have to know that not only will she fight through all that, but she'll fight you too in order to get you to see the mistake you've made. If you want to spare her, it's best just not to fight her on it.”

“You think I would leave her behind?” Solas blanched, but then realized that that had been a very real possibility until just recently.

“It is her greatest fear.” Dorian revealed. “Whatever promises you've made, I can guarantee you that she still fears that you will leave her behind, even if she doesn't realize it. You have a pattern, Solas. Get close, learn what you can, something bad happens, you strengthen your resolve and push her away. It hurts her worse every single time it happens, and no, leaving her permanently won't fix it. It will just hurt her more than anything else ever could.”

Solas would have been furious with Dorian's words, but the truth of it was the man was right. He had a pattern, and he knew it. Why wouldn't Alhasha have told him she feared this? Of course, she wouldn't have said anything about it. She'd always been one to keep her fears to herself, and he knew that well enough.

“It crosses my mind, even now, how much better off she would be if she found someone else. She deserves a peaceful life, and she isn't likely to have that with me.” Solas admitted, gazing in the direction he knew the woman to be as if he could actually see her. “To never hurt her is not a promise I can make.”

“That's just **_it_** though, Solas. There won't **_be_** anyone else, not for you or her. The way of True Kindred Souls is just that. There are no half measures.” Dorian stated. “You really went all out with that spell, it seems, to find the one woman who'd be able to put up with you. The first use of such a specific spell dates back even further than I could trace, and Tevinter likes to take the credit for its creation, though I suspect it was you. It practically set the standard for all other True Kindred Soul spells, as opposed to the standard Kindred Souls.”

“She is…extraordinary, pushing me to be more than I am, better than I was. I know I will hurt her, before all of this is over, and perhaps even after, but to leave her…to never come back for her somehow…I don't think I have it in me anymore, Dorian.” Solas said, turning his attention back to the man.

“She is a remarkable woman, to be sure.” Dorian agreed. “In another life, I would have given you a run for your money, you know. As it is now, it is highly amusing to flirt with her while you pretend not to be listening in the next alcove. Being in love looks good on you though, the both of you. I'm happy for you both. It gives hope to the rest of us.”

Unable to help himself, Solas laughed a little, and then in a more relaxed nature, replied. “I saw how you and Iron Bull comforted each other during the Ball. The two of you are very fortunate indeed to have found each other in the midst of all this.”

“No need to get all sentimental on me now, Solas.”Dorian said, waving his hand as if to clear the air. “At any rate, the goal of the conversation was to make sure that you treat our dear Hawke well.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Dorian.” Solas replied, with a sigh as he shook his head. “Though it is not needed. She is more than capable of making me see reason. It is good, to know that she has made such friends as the two of you.”

“Good. Glad that's settled then.” Dorian stated, with a smug grin. “I'd hate to have to figure out just what in the Void I'm suppose to try and threaten you with. Seems like whatever scratched up your back could do far worse than anything I could come up with.”

Solas didn't think he'd ever laughed so hard before.

* * *

 

Returning to Skyhold felt like coming home, Hawke decided. The family was definitely bigger, but whenever she returned to this place, the feeling of home would wash over her. She noticed that Solas would relax more when he was here. There was always something happening, some reason to be running about, someone who needed help, someone who was willing to help. This time was no different.

Her and Solas had opted to take their time returning to Skyhold, and so the others had gone ahead of them. It had been nice to have that time alone, and it was at least one guaranteed time the dwarf could not interrupt. The scene they came upon, once they finally arrived, was nothing like what they had expected. A Chantry mother stood in front of Josephine and Lavellan, looking like she was trying very hard to impress upon them something she felt was very important. Hawke and Solas looked to each other, and back to the scene in confusion, right before Hawke grinned and went in for the kill 'so to speak'.

“Please, Inquisitor, you must see how important this is.” The Mother implored. “Now that Orlais is no longer at conflict, and the Breach is closed, it is more important than ever that we elect a new Divine. Sister Nightingale and Seeker Pentagast must be made ready to be presented to the council at once.”

“You do realize you're trying to bully the Herald of Andraste into giving you what you want, because you want it?” Hawke asked, casually, as she strolled up to them. “Considering that the Chantry all but vilified the Inquisition at its founding, I am surprised you can walk in here without being singed on your own holiness. As it is, I'm afraid that Seeker Pentagast will be unavailable to you. She has a prior engagement she doesn't know about yet, and a dwarf with an insane amount of unattainabley touchable chest hair.

“And Sister Nightingale?” Lavellan asked, her lips twitching in an effort not to laugh.

“Oh, I'm sure between the lot of us, we can come up with some excuse to give that will fend off the vultures.” Hawke supplied, with an innocent smile. “If we're not careful, The Hero of Fereldan may just come in and whisk her away. I hear the two of them were **_very_** close during the last Blight. I doubt Zev would mind too much, especially if he gets to watch, or join in the fun.”

“I **_have_** been trying to get in touch with her.” Lavellan admitted, sheepishly.

“Don't let Cullen hear you say that.” Hawke replied, now grinning like the cat that found the cream. “He might just get a complex. He use to have a huge crush on her, and if he hears that you two are in **_touch_**  with each other, he may not be able to help himself.”

“Really, Hawke.” Josephine lightly scolded, though it looked like she welcomed the diversion.

“Alright, I'll behave.” Hawke said, pretending to pout, then looked like she had an idea. “Oh, lady Mother, before you go, a friend of mine had a question they put to me. Unfortunately, I am not privy to the inner workings of the Chantry, so I told him I would find out. Would you mind answering a question for me?”

“I suppose it could not hurt.” The Mother replied, a bit reluctant, seeing that she was not about to get what she wanted today. “The Chantry is always looking to guide new flock.”

“Is it true that on the full moon, you all get naked together, and use the holy oils to lather each others-” Hawke was unable to complete the sentence due to several things happening at once.

The Mother in question balked, and spun about to leave. Josephine looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. Lavellan was shaking with silent laughter she was trying very hard not to let out. Solas, however, didn't even bother. He laughed outright, sending the Mother even faster on her way.

“Wait, where is she going?” Hawke asked, before calling out to the Mother. “I JUST WANT TO KNOW IF THE CHANTRY HAS ORGIES?!”

Everyone within hearing distance stopped at that, and then dropped everything they were doing to laugh, causing the Chantry Mother to move faster to get out of the Keep. Lavellan lost it, holding onto her knees, her shoulders shaking as she laughed outright. Josephine tried to look composed, but even she was having troubles. When the Mother was out of sight, Hawke turned back around to them, grinning sheepishly. She had the good grace to look slightly guilty about it.

“Let me guess. Zevran?” Solas asked, still chuckling slightly.

“No one, actually, though Zevran will laugh about this when I write to him about it later.” Hawke replied, grinning all the more for it. “It got rid of her, didn't it?”

“How can you…I just…How have you not caused an international incident by now, Hawke?” Josephine asked, frustrated. All the colour washed out of Hawke's face in an instant.

“You're forgetting, Lady Montilyet, I have.” She said, her voice despondent, and she walked away. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I…need to go talk to Anders about the Healers Clinic he wanted to help extend here.”

* * *

 

“I didn't…She just…ugh…I really stepped in it this time.” Josephine groaned, realizing what she's said. “I did not mean to imply that. Hawke is one of the most dedicated people the Inquisition has. It's just…she…”

“Does not always bother with social niceties?” Lavellan supplied.

“That is one way of putting it, yes.” Josephine said, with a bit of a sigh. “How am I supposed to fix this?”

“While unorthodox, Alhasha's methods usually get the results needed.” Solas said, as if in thought. “Maybe an acknowledgement of that might help, or a fruit basket. Dorian says everyone loves those.”

* * *

 

Varric, Anders, Iron Bull, Scout Harding, Cullen and Leliana sat around a table playing Wicked Grace. Biscuit had become their unofficial official mascot for the game, and Sera had taken to tossing treats to see how far the pup could jump to catch them. The whole thing was rather amusing. So when Hawke walked past them looking like a wet blanket, Iron Bull called out to her to come over. She seemed surprised to see them, but happy to join the game.

“So, trouble in paradise already?” Iron Bull asked, after a round. “I had you two pegged at post question bliss for another two weeks.”

“It's not that.” Hawke admitted. “I just…I may have caused an international incident…again.”

“Don't look at me. My newly un-possessed ass is innocent.” Anders declared, raising his hands in surrender.

“This time.” Cullen remarked, eyeing the man.

“No building is blown up, so what's the deal, Hawke?” Iron Bull asked, wondering, though he thought he might have an idea.

“I asked the visiting Lady Mother if the Chantry clergy got together under the full moon, stripped naked, and lathered each other up in holy oil to have orgies.” Hawke asked, completely deadpanned.The laughter was nearly instantaneous, and she couldn't help but join in after a moment. “I don't think Josephine was particularly happy about it though. Might cause another international incident.”

“Oh, I wish I could have seen the look on her face!” Leliana said, through her laughter.

“I may have also suggested that you were escaping with The Hero of Fereldan and Zevran to go have kinky threesomes, which Lavellan and Cullen may or may not join in on, and that Cassandra was about to have her hands full of the unattainabley touchable dwarven chest hair.” Hawke added, keeping them going.

 ** _“That_** explains what the boy was talking about earlier.” Anders said, laughing, with realization…right as Varric passed out into his cards.

Cole showed up, looking very worried for Varric, and looked to Hawke. “You're sure this will help?”

“Yes, Cole, though not right away.” Hawke replied, without missing a beat. He seemed to look a bit better about it. “It will help more than one person in the long run. Trust me.”

“You help like Sera. Laughs make people brighter, happier.” Cole said, with a smile. “I like that we help.”

“Think you can help me sneak him into Cassandra's room without being seen?” Hawke asked, hopefully.

“They won't remember seeing.” Cole replied.

“That's just as good.” Hawke exclaimed, mischievously, and the two left as they carried an unconscious dwarf between them.

“I wonder…” Anders mused, before shaking his head. “You know what?…I don't want to know. Whatever he did to get her to do this…he probably deserves it.”

“Oh, he most definitely deserves it.” Iron Bull replied, with a bit of a chuckle. “Seems our nosey dwarf couldn't help himself, and saw Hawke nearly naked.”

“Oh dear.” Anders said, sounding a bit far off. More cheerfully, he added. “So, who wants to do the eulogy?”

* * *

 

Solas searched for Alhasha, after calming down Josephine. They would be fine, he knew that, but some subjects were still too raw to speak off so flippantly. Lavellan had asked if he would look for Varric too, while he searched for Alhasha, as she would like for the dwarf to accompany her on the next mission. That was something that had him shaking his head. After such an eventful time at the Winter Palace in Hal'am'shiral, he would have expected her to want to take a bit of a break, but she was already planning the next few days.

Varric was not at his usual spot, and whenever Solas inquired about him, many would start to laugh uncontrollably. He suspected Alhasha's retribution had finally been enacted, which brought a slight smile to his own face. It was only an after thought which brought him to the gardens, that he found at least one of the people he was looking for. She and Biscut were playing with the young boy that Morrigan had brought with her. For a moment, he simply watched them, basking in the happiness they seemed to exude.

“Hello, I'm Kieran. You're like **_her,_** but you're an elf!” The boy, Kieran, exclaimed, happily, upon seeing Solas.

“Yes. You may call me Solas, if you like, Kieran. If I may ask, what do you think of Lady Hawke?” Solas asked, politely.

“She is **_beautiful._** Her **_eyes_ ,** have you seen how **_bright_** they are?” Kieran stated, looking back to Alhasha. “The two of you are connected.”

“You can tell that?” Alhasha asked, curiously.

“It's like so many strands. They float in the wind when you are apart, but the closer you get, the tighter they are, the more I can see them.” Kieran explained, smiling. “You love him.”

“Very much so.” Alhasha replied, with a little smile.

“That is good. He looks like he was lonely before.” Kieran said, sympathetically.

“Kieran, are you causing these two trouble?” Morrigan asked, as she strolled up to them.

“Mother, have you **_met_** them? They share a **_bond_ ,** Mother. Isn't that **_wonderful_?”** Kieran asked, happily.

“Indeed. Don't you have studies to get to, little man?” Morrigan asked, arching her eyebrow at the boy in a way only a mother can.

The boy sighed, and moved to shuffle away, but at the last second he moves to hug Alhasha. “Don't worry. He isn't lonely now. He loves you too.”

And then he rushed off.

“I hope he wasn't troubling either of you.” Morrigan stated, fondly watching the boy as he left. “Not many understand him, and I worry as any mother would.”

“Nonsense. The boy is a gentle soul.” Solas replied, kindly. “It is good to see one so open, especially one so young. He sees more than most. It is a gift not many would appreciate.”

“I never thought I'd see the day where you were a _mother_ , Morrigan.” Alhasha said, happily. “It looks good on you.”

“So, who is **_this_** then, little songbird? Aren't you going to introduce me?” Morrigan, asked, with inquisitive eyes.

“Morrigan, this is Solas.” Alhasha explained, though whether she saw the knowing look in the woman's eyes was unclear. “Solas, this is Morrigan, one of Flemeth's daughters. She was at the Winter Palace.”

“I have heard mention of you before, and I believe we may have met briefly at the Winter Palace. It is good to officially make your acquaintance, Lady Morrigan.” Solas said, looking at Morrigan intently. “How is it that you know _Alhasha_?”

“She called for help across the Fade, and I was too curious not to answer. The Kokari wilds do not offer much in the way of companionship. She needed someone, and I needed to be needed.” Morrigan replied, with a kind smile. “I take it she met you in a similar fashion?”

“In a manner of speaking. She pulled me through the Fade to where she was.” Solas admitted, surprising Morrigan. “She is…extraordinary.”

“That she is. Hawke, I hate to cut our time short, but I do have to get to the War Room. The Inquisitor wishes to discuss Crestwood. We should get together sometime, and catch up. It has been too long, my friend.” Morrigan said, and with a nod to Solas, she left.

“That boy houses the soul of an old god.” Solas stated, as soon as the woman was gone. “That he can literally see our connection as so many strands may be a result of that.”

“She does love that boy. I wasn't lying when I said motherhood looked good on her.” Alhasha replied. “You came to find me. What were you wanting to talk about?”

“I can't seem to find Varric, and the Inquisi-” He had been about to say something, but Alhasha's laugh burst forth in an instant.

“She'll have to…find…someone else!” Alhasha said, through her laughter.

“Do I want to know?” Solas asked, and now Alhasha is holding onto her sides from laughing so hard. “Just what did you **_do_** to him?”

“He's…he's…” She can't speak for a few good minutes. “…a bit **_tied up_** at the moment. Best tell her to leave without him.”

“ _Alhasha_ …What did you **_do_?”** Solas asked, now morbidly curious. She calmed down enough to whisper it to him, and he blanched even as he laughed.

* * *

 

The first thing he noticed upon waking up, was that his nose itched, but when he went to scratch it, he discovered he couldn't move either. That's when he discovered his next bit of unfortunate news. Oh, this could not get any worse, but it could…and it did. This was by far the worst situation he's ever been in, but he was not going to call out for help. He was perfectly happy to die in quiet embarrassment, hoping that no one found him.

Of course, he knew that Flint would get back at him eventually. He didn't know why he'd been so surprised when she'd made to knock him out, but this? Damn it, his nose itched! He hadn't expected the kid to get involved, or Blondie, though he should have suspected that last one. Anders was notorious for helping Flint with her pranks, if only because he thought he could get into her smallclothes that way.

He blamed Dorian, truth be told. It'd been from him that she'd heard the story of what they'd found while searching about the Winter Palace. Now, he's tied up, strapped to a bed, spread out, with only a hat for his bits. He wasn't even sure who's room he was in, but he dreaded finding out. His nose really itches, and it's driving him up the wall. He sighed, once again damning his own curious nature or getting him into this mess, as he waits for whoever it is that's supposed to find him.

* * *

 

An hour or so later…

 

Cassandra had just gotten through reading the latest chapter of Swords and Shields. She'd opened the door to her room, and upon seeing what was inside, quickly closed said door. She wasn't seeing this. She did **_not_** see Varric tied to her bed spread eagle buck ass naked. Maker's Breath, the only thing he'd been wearing was a hat on his bits.

Hawke is gone on some fool dragon hunt, and the Inquisitor is off in Crestwood, and she was **_not_** about to go back in there! What was she suppose to **_do_?** This was even worse than some of the things she'd read in that smutty book series he wrote. Her face was beet red just thinking about it.

“Seeker, I know you're still standing there.” Varric stated, in resigned defeat. She sighs, and walks back in, quickly closing the door, and looks anywhere else except for at him.

“This is **_most_** inappropriate, Varric.” She scolds, not sure what else to say, thoroughly embarrassed.

“Look, if you're not going to untie me, can you at least scratch my nose? It itches.” Varric whines.

“Not before you answer my questions.” Cassandra insisted. “I'm going to assume you did not do this to yourself. Who did?”

“If I tell you, will you scratch my nose?” Varric asked, wriggling his nose. “Come on, Seeker. Show a little sympathy.”

“Alright, fine.” She agreed, with an annoyed sigh. “Now out with it.”

“Flint.” Varric answered.

 **“ _Hawke_** did this to you?” Cassandra asked, wide eyed, in shock. **“ _Why_?”**

“Why do you **_think_?”** Varric asked, with a huff. “I practically walked in on them about to have sex, with her already naked, barely covered by a towel, and trying to get Chuckles out of his clothes!”

She reluctantly scratched his nose.

“So, I get why she did this to **_you_ ,** but what do _**I** _ have to do with this?” Cassandra asked, very clearly embarrassed.

 **“ _Really_ ,** Seeker?” Varric asked, annoyed and embarrassed. Who knew dwarves could blush this much? “She's tied me up like a Wintersend goose, and left me in your room. What do you **_think_ ** you have to do with this?”

“Well, I…I mean…I just…I thought…” Cassandra stammered, her blush now matching his. “This is not how one shows interest.”

“Clearly you haven't looked under the hat.” Varric teased, making her blush that much more. “This is a clear opportunity if there ever was one. You have to have at least one fantasy where you abuse your power over a **' _prisoner_ ',** Seeker.”

“Be that as it may, we might want to untie you. Your hands are turning purple.” She said, and began working to untie him, with a smirk. When he was untied, she moved to the door to give him his privacy to redress, but before she left, she turned her head towards him slightly and added. “If you **_really_** want to 'show you interest', you're just going to have to court me properly. We'll talk about tying you up after.”

And with that, she left him there, with a gaping expression on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just a filler chapter, between last one and next one. DnD next week, so hopefully I'll have a new chapter up for you guys. Thank goodness for friends that are willing to share their wifi.


	26. Wild and Free...or not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no denying Hawke's nature, even when it gets her into trouble. Solas can not help but be protective of her, especially after the red lyrium incident. It is only when Dorian brings up a flaw to him that he realizes he can not object to her nature in this way. He is worried she will one day find the thing that bests her, and he will lose her to it, but if he has no faith in her, then he will lose her anyway. Dragons. It had to be dragons. With how accident prone she is, things happen that no one expects, and Iron Bull finds it more difficult to come up with lies to tell the Qun. The most unexpected thing, is that he has become complacent, believing that Skyhold was safe enough from Vael. It is not, but it is not his Alhasha that suffers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, there's torture. Granted it's not really detailed, and I'm not good at describing it, but it's there.

Chapter 26

 

Dorian liked to think that he knew a great deal about how people operated, but that didn't always apply, and Solas seemed to fall into the unexpected category quite a lot for him. They'd made camp for the night, on their way to investigate Crestwood, and that had given Dorian time to study up on everyone. People watching was a strangely enjoyable hobby, and one you can drink to as you went about it. For the past several minutes, Solas has been chuckling to himself. Actually, he'd been doing that all day, but he'd not bothered to explain himself.

“Alright, what is it?” Dorian asked, when Solas came and sat by the fire with him. “You've been randomly chuckling all day. I know the dwarf calls you Chuckles, but this is getting ridiculous.”

“It's just…it's **_about_** master Tethras. _Alhasha_ told me what she **_did_** to him.” Solas replied, with a knowing smile. “I doubt you or Iron Bull will have to do anything to add to his embarrassment.”

“How bad is it?” Dorian asked, now morbidly curious.

“Not bad, in the grand scheme of things, but certainly mortifying for the dwarf.” Solas responded, still grinning. “It seems she got the idea from you.”

“Oh? **_This_** I have to hear.” Dorian said, with a grin. “It's always good when I can add to my own amusement. Tell me, what did I say that gave her the idea for whatever it is she did?”

“Do you remember that chevalier we found in the Empress's room?” Solas asked, and Dorian instantly belts out laughing.

Dorian asked, still laughing. “She did **_that_** to him?”

“And left him alone…” Solas added, pausing for dramatic effect. “…in Seeker Pentagast's room.”

 _ **“Damn,**_ I owe that woman 10 sovereigns.” Dorian chuckled. “That was, hands down, much better than the suggestions Bull or I gave her.”

“What did they say they would be doing, anyway?” Solas asked. “She mentioned going on another mission with him while I was away.”

“She didn't tell you?” Dorian asked, and then continued on. “I'm actually surprised she didn't. She's agreed to go dragon hunt-”

Solas had instantly stood up, and began pacing, ranting in elvhen. It was not a language that Dorian had been able to pick up during his time here. The man was worried about Hawke, Dorian could gather that much, but what Solas shouted as he paced back and forth was lost on him. Lavellan stumbled out of her tent a few moments later, bleary eyed, looking around wildly for whatever was suppose to be attacking camp, only to see Solas in full blown panic. She calmed down, strangely enough, and made her way over to the camp fire.

“ _Isenathan! Isenathan! La Vael air'tel aelyl o'ei'telsila. As isala pana i'isenathan!_ ” Solas raged, at no one in particular.

“Did you **_have_** to go and tell him about the dragons?” Lavellan asked, keeping her voice low, when she got to Dorian. “I **_was_** asleep.”

“This is good for him. It's better for him to get it out of his system now, than when he finds she's not back at Skyhold.” Dorian reasoned, and she grumbled. He was right, but having ones sleep interrupted made for a grumpy disposition.

“ _Solas_!” Lavellan growled, grabbing the mans attention. “ _As shor ea san. Mala, felas'dur, eil lasa em era._ ”

“She-” Solas managed to say, before Lavellan cut him off.

 **“ _No_ ,** Solas. She. **_Will_.** Be. **_Fine._ ”** Lavellan stated, firmly. “ _Ema na din dhru in ash?_ ”

“That's not…I didn't…” Solas stammered, her words cutting into him, and he seemed to deflate almost instantly. “ _Ir abelas, ma falon, na ane vol._ ”

He sits down once again, and Lavellan heads back to her tent to sleep.

“Do you worry for Iron Bull like this?” Solas asked, trying to take subtle deep breaths to calm down.

“More often than I will ever tell him.” Dorian admitted, with a smirk. “The same goes for her, you know. She worries for you more than she will ever tell you. That tends to be the way of it, wanting to share their burdens while trying to hide your own.”

“That seems counter productive.” Solas mused, and then sighed. “Dragons. Why did it have to be dragons?”

“You'd be saying the same thing about undead, red templars, wyverns, giants, or dark spawn.” Dorian pointed out. Solas huffed at that, but didn't deny it either.

* * *

 

_Isenathan! Isenathan! La Vael air'tel aelyl o'ei'telsila. As isala pana i'isenathan!_

**_Dragons! Dragons! Like Vael isn't enough of a problem. She wants fights with dragons!_ **

_As shor ea san. Mala, felas'dur, eil lasa em era_

**_She will be fine. Now, calm down, and let me sleep_ **

_Ema na din dhru in ash?_

**_Have you no faith in her?_ **

_Ir abelas, ma falon, na ane vol._

**_I'm sorry, my friend, you are right._ **

* * *

 

Hawke had felt his worry as if it had been her own, and cringed when she realized she'd forgotten to tell him about the dragon hunt. It wasn't like she needed his permission, but she'd not meant to exclude his feelings in this either. That would be about the time her infamous accident prone nature kicked in. She'd tried to send back feelings of calm, anything to let Solas know that he didn't need to worry. However, she stumbled because she wasn't paying attention to where she was going, and fell down a rather large hole.

When she woke up, Hawke was still a little groggy. So it took her a minute to realize that she was looking up at where she'd fallen from, and that her very warm bed was gently moving up and down in a slow rhythmic pattern. Iron Bull was looking down at her with a mixture of awe and worry. So she was either the luckiest woman on the planet, or the craziest. Hawke herself expected it was a bit of both.

The Dragon hadn't woken up yet, but she could tell it was in the process of doing just that. Oh, this was bad, Hawke realized. Solas could read her emotions from where he was, just as she could his, and if he realized just what state she was in now…Strangely enough, concentrating on the dragon's breathing helped calm her down. If she could calm down, he wouldn't have to know she was resting her laurels on the back of a sleeping dragon.

“Hawke…Hawke, are you injured?” Iron Bull called down, keeping his voice low. She gave a thumbs up, not wanting to speed up the process of waking up the dragon, though she didn't see how else she was going to get out of this mess.

“Shit.” Iron Bull grumbled, the sound barely echoing down to her. “Just hang on. We'll get you out!”

* * *

 

Solas showing up in a random location had become common place, but Iron Bull **_really_** wished that he could have held off on that just this once. Hawke wasn't in any immediate danger, at least not yet, and it wasn't going to stay like that for long. If he could keep Solas calm, they had a chance of getting her out of there alive. There was no way she was coming out of there riding on the back of a dragon…Actually, that sounded like a really great plan, and now Iron Bull really wanted to see that happen.

“Solas, what are you doing here?” Iron Bull asked, keeping his voice low.

“This usually only happens when _Alhasha_ is in danger of some sort.” Solas replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why is she not with you?”

“Hawke is fine…resting…fine.” Iron Bull managed, hoping to bullshit his way out of this. “Go back to Crestwood, or wherever it is you actually are at the moment. There is absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Then why do I feel…” Solas managed, closing his eyes as if to stave off something. “…light headed… dizzy…She is anxious…I will **_not_ ** ask again, Bull. Where is she?”

“Alright, alright, but promise you won't freak out.” Iron Bull said, relenting. Solas didn't budge. “She fell down that hole over there…She's fine…as far as we can tell anyway,…but…she…well……landed on the back of a sleeping dragon.”

All the colour drains from the elven man's face, only to be replaced with pure shock, as Solas asked. “How…How did that **_happen?”_**

“She just tripped. We weren't even supposed to **_stop_** here. Our goal was half a mile east…or so we thought.” Iron Bull explained, cautious about the elf's reaction now. “Right now she's fine, but there's no way to move her.”

Solas closed his eyes again, shaking his head, before sighing. “Only _Alhasha_ can trip, and fall, only to land on a sleeping dragon. How-”

“I don't know how we're going to get her out, Solas, but we **_will_** get her out.” Iron Bull insisted, rather emphatically.

“Chief!” Krem shouted, bringing their attention back to the present. “You're not going to **_believe_** this!”

* * *

 

They all watched as the dragon came into view, and backed up accordingly, but Solas and Iron Bull refused to move. This was a being of raw power, one the two respected for different reasons, but what shocked them most was not the dragon. Alhasha sat on the shoulders of a dragon, clinging on for dear life, caught somewhere between joy and fear. At first, the dragon paid them no heed, trying to throw the bothersome thing that was on its body. However, Alhasha was either too stubborn to be bucked off,…or she was stuck.

“Solas, that woman is **_amazing!_ ”** Iron Bull exclaimed, shocked and thrilled by the turn of events. “Do you **_see_** that?! Ohhh, this is going to be good!”

Solas doesn't think he's ever seen a more perfect representation of what Alhasha is than this. Lightning splits the air, and fire surrounds as sparks of bright blue lyrium singe the air. Alhasha laughs even as he can sense her fear, and Solas does not know whether to be afraid, angry, in awe, or worried out of his damned mind. She's wearing the biggest wolfish grin he's ever seen on her, her hair dancing wildly about her. The dragon itself is fascinating, an impressive display of raw power, and were his nas'falon not trapped on it somehow, Solas might have been tempted to study it further…maybe even enjoy the fight as Iron Bull tended to do.

“ _L_ _eanashal alhasha_.” Solas murmured, when he caught another moment to breathe. _“Gaelashal salhasine._ ”

**_Gloriously wild – Absolutely insane_ **

Then, as he watched the dragon take flight, his mind stopped working altogether. He could hear Iron Bull trying to get him to calm down, but it sounded so far away, as if he were hearing through water. He heard her screams, not of fear, but of joy, and slowly came back to himself. Something was wrong though, a pull on his mind. Someone was trying to call him back to himself, and he only had so much time left.

“Iron Bull, I can not stay.” Solas said, not taking his eyes off of where Alhasha and the dragon were in the sky. “Lavellan is calling me back to myself. Something is wrong in Crestwood.”

* * *

 

Being in the sky was a lot different than she thought it would be. Then again, she wasn't the one in charge of flying. The dragon's wingspan was impressive, and she was very thankful that its horns were pointed outward instead of back at her. Somehow, she'd been able to hold on to at least one of the horns while the thing tried to buck her off, and its neck was just short enough that it could not reach back to bite her, though she was worried about the spikes along its jawline. Seeing Solas there was not surprising, but she could only imagine the fight they would have when she got back to Skyhold.

When the two landed, Hawke realized why she hadn't been bucked off yet. The dragon wanted her gone, but its scales were absorbing her. She'd become kind of glued to the creature, so much so that part of her legs were sinking into it. That's when she began to panic, punching the damned thing with fire wrapped fists, trying to fry its brains. Solas was gone, called back she assumed, so she did not know if it was his panic she was even feeling or her own.

“LET ME GO!” Hawke shouted, her voice filled with worry and panic, even as she pounded her fists into the dragon's skull. “LET ME GO! LET ME GO **_NOW!!!_ ”**

* * *

 

Iron Bull could only watch as Hawke pounded on the dragon's skull, all manner of magical means being used. It seemed particularly weak against lightning, and so it was no surprise when her magic fixated on it. Each time Hawke slammed her fist down, a bolt of lightning came down and struck its skull, and she screamed all the while, her eyes shining a bright light as she did so. The more panicked she became, the more fiercely she pounded with her fists, and the more powerful the lightning became, until finally a bolt of lightning split the dragon's skull open. That sent the dragon slumping over till it fell down in an unceremonious heap, and gave up the last of its life.

She continued pounding on the skull, demanding to be let go, sending bolts of lightning through it. The air around them was practically charged with electricity. He knew that if they couldn't calm her down, the sheer power she was wielding in her panic could kill them. So when Solas showed up again, Iron Bull wasn't surprised. What did surprise him was when Solas saw her like that, and moved to go to her.

“Solas, **_don't!”_** Iron Bull warned, seeing that the elf was headed straight for her.

Of course, his words were ignored. Solas made his way to the woman in question without hesitation. With each strike on lightning, the others kept having to move a step back. As her hand came down, Solas struck out, and grabbed the other one, pulling her to him. In an instant, Hawke was on the ground again, the lightning struck them both, and Solas pulled Hawke into an embrace.

When the lightning bolt struck, it was absorbed by something unseen, and the area was bathed in light. All around them, a mix of bright blue and light green tendrils danced around them. Though it was only for the briefest of moments, the outline of two wolves could be seen in the tendrils above them, offering comfort to each other. It was the single most powerful magical display he'd ever seen, and he'd just gotten through fighting a dragon. As the lights faded, Solas was comforting Hawke could just as the wolves had been.

Iron Bull hoped that for their sake they had a good explanation for that. A display like that demanded answers, and the Qun would disavow him if he couldn't come up with something good to cover this up with. If not, Solas had just all but announced that he was Fen'Harel to the Qun, and that was not something Iron Bull wanted to see happen, and Hawke?…He didn't even know what she was now. As much as the two butted heads on how they viewed spirits, the two men had struck up a friendship, and he viewed Hawke as a friend as well. He did **_not_** want to tell the Qun what he knew.

“Let me go! Let me go!” Hawke cried, still panicking, as if her eyes didn't understand the change in environment.

“ _Lath'in, dian. Na ane eth. Na ane reva_.” Solas said, trying to get her to look into his eyes as he attempted to calm her down. “ _Ra tel nua na mala_.”

**_Love, stop. You are safe. You are free – It can not hurt you now_ **

“ _Ra shyr'tel rea! Ra shyr'tel rea, Solas!_ ” Hawke insisted, her eyes wide in panic still. “ _Ra…Ra shor veral em sule ra'len…vilal'em…Ar tel lasa ra!_ ”

**_It wouldn't let go! It wouldn't let go, Solas! - It…It was taking me into itself…absorbing me…I couldn't let it!_ **

She was stopped from continuing her panic filled rambling by Solas, who had taken to stealing a kiss. Though Iron Bull doubted the elf would ever admit to being scared, seeing Hawke on that dragon had rattled him. It wasn't something one saw every day, and Solas was already very protective of her. Even Iron Bull knew how encompassing the bonds of True Kindred Souls were. Though Hawke could very well take care of herself, and Solas knew that, worry was not always reasonable and had a habit of rearing its head whenever the woman got caught up in something.

“ _Na ane eth, Lath'in_.” Solas said, as if he needed to reaffirm it for himself, before stealing another kiss. “Seeing you on that dragon… _(kiss)_ …We are going to have **_words_** later… _(kiss)_ …Important words… _(kiss)_ …about safety… _(kiss_ )…and the wildness that you are…( _kiss_ )…and how incredibly _palasha_ I found it all…( _kiss_ )… _ara salhasine_ …( _kiss_ )… _alhasha_ …( _kiss_ )… _tel'dhru'gonathe_ …( _kiss_ )… _ir'ina'lan'ehn_ …( _kiss_ )… _lath'in_ …”

**_You are safe, Love – sexy – my crazy…wild…incredible…gorgeous…love…_ **

“You two can catch up later.” Iron Bull said, serious, and the two started as if they had forgotten anyone else was there. Each kiss had seemed to calm her down until Solas hadn't just stealing them, she had been returning them, and Iron Bull had no desire to see what those two looked like naked. “Solas, I need an explanation, something I can tell the people back home. Give me something plausible, so they'll think I'm not hiding more than any other Ben-hassrath. I saw the two of you absorb a lightning bolt, and wolves appeared above you in that spirit tendril stuff. I need something that can explain that away.”

Solas looked lost in thought for a moment, looking like he had barely able to pull himself from the obvious plan he'd had to steal as many kisses from Hawke as he could, before replying. “ _Alhasha_ and I are _Fenin_ , something akin to shape-shifters, but the wolf is the only form we can take. Where I specialize in Fade magic, and _Alhasha_ is my _nas'falon_ , it would be reasonable to assume that she too has an affinity for the Fade apart from myself. Therefore, the wolves within us would be easy to see where the Veil is weakest. As for the lightning bolt, the shield absorbed the magic of it, allowing it to return safely to its source. How was that?”

“That could work.” Iron Bull replied, and decided to leave them there to sort themselves out.

* * *

 

“I am glad you are safe, _Lath'in._ ” Solas said, turning his attentions back to her. “You are the only one I have ever met that can trip and fall onto a **_dragon._** Why does master Tethras not tell stories like those?”

“I don't think it would make for very a very good story if the hero trips into action.” She joked, laughing a bit, still filled with nerves. “So…about those **_words_** we're suppose to have later?…”

“As much as it worried me, I have never seen anything quite as chaotic and wildly beautiful as that, _Alhasha._ ” Solas admitted, very much wishing they were more alone than they were. “The way you looked… _alhasha eil reva_ …it was… _syl'veral…pal'sorol…_ ”

**_wild and free……breathtaking…thrilling_ **

“Thrilling, you say?” Alhasha asked, looking glad for the distraction from her panic.

“Oh, yes, _Lath'in._ ” Solas replied, grinning a wolfish smile to rival her own. “There will be **_many_** words had about that.”

“Promise?” She asked, baiting him with that grin of hers, leaning up for a kiss, one he could not deny her.

“You two **_do_** know I'm still here, right?” Krem asked, more than a little amused. The two turned to see him looking only slightly uncomfortable, and a touch embarrassed. “Chief told me to stay to make sure you two didn't get 'carried away'. I imagine he plans on us leaving soon.”

“I **_should_** be getting back.”Solas conceded, returning his attentions to Alhasha. “We are returning to Skyhold soon. Something about what happened in Crestwood troubles me. Warden Stroud suspects that the Grey Wardens are being corrupted by Coryphius. If this is so, it may lead to the demon armies Lavellan spoke of.”

“Where did he say he was looking into?” Alhasha asked, instantly.

“There is an old fortress in the Western Approach. He seems to think they have gone there.” He said, before he looked to Krem, who seemed to get the hint that maybe he needed to leave for a bit, and then back to Alhasha.

“ _Lath'in._ ” He said, more quietly. “There is something I need to discuss with you once you get back to Skyhold. Please, as soon as you can, make your way back. I will be waiting.”

* * *

 

By the time that they got back to Skyhold, Hawke was in a right state. The man had told her he had something to discuss with her…Was that the same thing as the ' _We need to talk_ ' speech? How in the Void was she suppose to know this stuff? So when Solas pulled her into a hidden alcove, only to push her up against a wall and kiss her breathless, Hawke was a bit taken aback.

“You said…” Hawke managed to get out, before he was kissing her again. Damn, he was good at this. “Solas, you said …” Really, this was getting out of hand. “Solas, you said we needed to talk!” That finally got him to pause, hearing the seriousness in her voice. “I've been worried you didn't want me anymore! Give me a minute to catch up!” That last part was said with a joking demeanor.

“You thought…?” Solas said, pausing for a moment, as if going over the memory in his mind again. **_“Why?”_**

“Because you all but said _'we need to talk_ ' and then you left!” Hawke hissed, a bit embarrassed about it all, knowing that she was blushing now. Iron Bull had insisted that wasn't what it'd meant, but she'd let her imagination get out of hand.

“I…I had not realized…” He said, looking a bit surprised, before adding. “I was a bit more focused on all those words we were going to have about you, and that dragon, and what that did… _theslol palasha_ …than what I said after…I had just…Your eyes, _Lath'in_ , shown like…You truly are now…”

_**fucking sexy** _

In that instant, Hawke understood. Her eyes had shown like that of the Evanuris, not a flash of it, but steady enough so that it was unmistakable what she had become…to those who knew what to look for. When she nodded in understanding, Solas rested his forehead against her own. He'd come close to losing that control again, and that would not do where they could be discovered. It took a little while before either trusted themselves to speak.

“Lady Morrigan is having something brought to Skyhold from the Winter Palace. Though I do not know how, she has come into possession of an uncorrupted functional El'u'vian.” Solas stated, back to his aloof nature, though there was something intimate about the way he spoke to her. “When it gets here, there is something I want to show you. I think it could be what we need, and there are places I wish to share with you.”

There was that word again, **_we,_** and it made Hawke smile to hear it. She nodded her silent agreement, because they really didn't know where another assassin would pop up. Solas took this as his cue to begin a trail of kisses that lead from her lips to her jawline to him nibbling on her neck, knowing she couldn't stop the little sounds she made when he did that, though she did try. There were people around milling about their day, and she didn't want to get caught there. Solas just concentrated on making little places along her neck, alternating between nibbling and suckling each place he made.

“Vishante Kaffas!” Fenris shouted, causing Solas to drop his head to one of Hawke's shoulders and shake with silent laughter. “She hasn't even been back 5 minutes!”

* * *

 

It had taken many months to figure out the quick way to that hard to find room of hers. It had taken a few more to figure out how to get in without either of them knowing he'd been there. The failed attempts could be blamed on servants bringing food, things neither would think to question. He'd been here for so long now, that even if they could smell him, they would not recognize him as an intruder. This had to be perfect, and if the rumours were true, nothing else would do.

* * *

 

**_In the Fade…_ **

 

Solas put his hand to his neck, having felt something prick him, a look of confusion crossing his features. He knew in an instant that something was wrong in the waking world. It was only a matter of time before Alhasha picked up on it too. She looked so happy with her family. Because he knew that this was not something everyone could indulge in, he did not want to alert her to what was wrong, but he should have known she'd pick up on it faster than he wanted.

“Out with it. Your eyebrows have that dip to them again. Something's wrong.” Alhasha said, walking up to him, stealing a small kiss. He could not resist taking over the kiss, putting more into it as he was worried it would be his last, and she sensed that too. “Solas? What's wrong?”

“I am…uncertain, _Alhasha._ I think someone…I think someone may have entered the room.” Solas said, shaking his head. _Fenedhis!_ It was getting harder to think. “It is not impossible, and they may have…”

“Then I have to get back!” Alhasha insisted, instantly alarmed. “What if something happens to you?”

“It…already has, _Lath'in._ ” He revealed, knowing she would feel it soon. He could not keep the effects of the link away from her forever. “I have been…drugged…Possibly taken…I do not know. Do not wake up yet…It is dangerous, _Lath'in_ , please…”

He knew what he was asking was unfair. She was caught between wanting to save him, and wanting to trust that he knew what he was doing. Staying here would save her, at least he hoped it would. Her waking up to a hostage situation in progress? He was not about to take that risk, whether it angered her or not.

“Please, _Lath'in_ , just stay…stay with me here…” Solas pleaded, anything to keep her from waking up.

“You are in so much trouble when I find you.” She threatened, though there was no anger in her words. She let him pull her into his arms, and then she whispered into his ear. “I was rather looking forward to all those words we were going to have.”

“I will endeavor to make it up to you once we are out of this.” Solas replied, trying to keep his voice light, but he could tell something was wrong again. “ _Alhasha_? What-?”

She was gone before he could blink, her voice ringing in his ears, as she called out to him.

* * *

 

He realized, before he had even woken up, that it was not her that had left the Fade. It had been him. Weak did not describe how he felt. There was no word for the depth of helplessness in him now. There was a certain disjointed feeling that came with whatever this was.

That's when he knew. Magebane. He'd been dosed with magebane, something that had never happened to him before. Alhasha fought through this stuff? She was right about the walking through rapids feeling. This felt like he was drowning, like he could not even find the surface of where he was.

This place, where was he? The rocking…a boat perhaps? He'd been chained up by his wrists together above his head, with his feet barely on the floor. Immediately, he is glad he told Alhasha to stay in the Fade. She may be able to fight off a dragon, but he did not want her to see what was about to happen to him.

“It is good to see you awake, my fine elven friend. I was beginning to think you were never going to wake up.” Came an all too familiar voice from somewhere nearby.

Solas looked to his left, narrowing his eyes as he fought through the haze the magebane had put on his mind. Zevran looked to be in the same situation as him, maybe without the drugs in his system, or just different drugs, but badly beaten. Somehow, that antivan assassin had managed to keep his humour through that. Solas just snorted at the man, and closed his eyes. Everything in the room felt like it was spinning.

“I thought you were an **_assassin.”_** Solas offered, in way of greeting, sarcastically.

“I thought you were a **_god.”_** Zevran chuckled, jovially. “Funny how we both ended up in the same place, no?”

“Who has us, and are there others?” Solas asked, after a while.

“I am uncertain if there are others…” Zevran explained, with shaky breath. “As for who has us…”

“It is good that you are awake.” A new voice came. Vael, Solas realized, walked towards them both. “Pity I could not have had Hawke grabbed as well, but no matter.”

“Where is she? What have you done with her?!” Solas growled, straining to remain clearheaded through the fog the magebane put his head in.

“I was told she looked absolutely peaceful sleeping next to you.” Vael stated, not answering his question just yet. “Don't worry about her. When she realizes where you are, she will come for you. What you **_should_** be worried about is what ** _I'm_** going to do to you. If I have to cut you open to find out how to free her, I'll do it.”

Despite this, Solas was relieved. Alhasha had been left alone, meaning that she was safe for the time being. Whatever happened to him, she was safe. He could keep the connection at bay if it meant she wouldn't have to suffer what was about to happen to him. Vael's eyes looked like they promised retribution.

“How strange that you have scars like her lyrium lines.” Vael said, observantly, looking up at Solas's bare arms where the sleeves had fallen down. “I wonder…How did you get them?”

“That is no concern of yours.” Solas scoffed, only to be punched in the ribs for his trouble. The more he refused to answer, the more painful the punches became, until he was fairly certain the man had cracked a few of his ribs in the process.

“Now, care to answer the question?” Vael asked, nonchalantly.

“I took…her pain.” Solas rasped, through difficult breaths, giving the barest bit of information he could. Without warning, Vael's fist connected with his jaw, and went back to punching his ribs until Zevran interrupted him.

“Why are we here?” Zevran demanded, surprising Vael into stopping.

 **“ _He_** is here because he has stolen what is **_mine!”_** Vael snapped, pointing to Solas.

“Hawke was never **_yours,_** Sebastian.” Zevran chuckled, only to be punched for his troubles too.

“And **_you!_**   ** _You're_** here because you turned down my offer.” Vael snarled. “I can't exactly have news of this getting out before I am prepared for it. All you had to do was stay with them, report what you saw, and bring them to me. I would have made you rich beyond your foolish dreams, but you couldn't even do that right. I see no reason for Hawke to speak so highly of you.”

“Hawke is my friend.” Zevran chuckled, darkly, unfazed by Vael's outburst. “Did you really think I would betray her to you?”

“Friends…” Sebastian scoffed, in disbelief. “Loyalty and friendship can be bought with coin. I have many friends now.”

Zevran just leveled him with a look, even chained up as he was, and replied darkly. “I don't.”

 


	27. Or not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Solas stolen from out of 'their room', it is Hawke's turn to deal with the side effects of being a True Kindred Soul. She must learn to handle his pain this time. He has been taken, tortured, and she is angry. When she finds a way to act, she does, angry that they kept this from her. This leads her to Kirkwall, and she will go with, or without, the permission of the Inquisition. Aveline is having to deal with Starkhaven forces for longer than she would care to admit, but news reaches her that is troubling. Hawke is coming to Kirkwall, and things will only get crazier from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like last chapter, there's some not very descriptive torture.

Chapter 27

 

Hawke was angry. Solas had known what was happening to him, had hidden it from her, and now he was gone. She'd searched Skyhold like a madwoman, looking for any sign of him. Whoever had taken him had made sure to cover their scent, leave no tracks, and drugged Biscuit so he couldn't alert them or help after. It was all Lavellan and the others could do to keep her calm.

Many questions ran through her mind. How had they gotten into 'their room' without her knowledge? How had they left with Solas without anyone seeing them? Where were they now, and who were they? Why had they gone after Solas, and not her?

Though she knew that he was trying to keep their link from revealing what was happening to him, not everything could be held back. She'd nearly collapsed when she felt a sharp pain to her ribs, but at least she knew what it was, though it made her sick to think of it. Whoever it was, was torturing him, and they'd drugged him with magebane to keep his magic down. She felt his anger, a sense of betrayal, and a calm understanding. Leliana was busy interrogating her people, Lavellan was combing through the reports, and Hawke was getting restless with waiting for something to happen.

* * *

 

“That's why…you kept…showing up.” Solas concluded, trying to keep his breathing light. Cracked ribs hurt like a motherfucker.

“No…and yes.” Zevran admitted, turning slightly till Solas could see his battered face. “I hold friends in high regard,…because I have…so few of them,…and Hawke…is a friend to me…So, when I got a letter…saying she was in trouble,…I went…I found it strange…that she was so easy to find…that her reaction to you was not…one of fear, but of anger and retribution…that she was hurt…because you were **_ignoring_** her…I realized…that Sebastian had lied…god…or not,…I doubt even you…could hold Hawke against her wishes…at least…not for long…When Sera contacted me…said Hawke was in trouble…I went…Sera was quite clear…about what kind of trouble…Hawke could be in…knew about prince baddie,…as she calls him…I could not risk…him finding Hawke…before you did…”

“You **_love_** her.” Solas realized, and a strange emptiness filled him at that.

“I love…all of my friends,…even you, my fine elven friend,…but alas…my heart belongs to another.” Zevran replied, with his usual easy going smile even now, easing Solas's tension. “The Hero of Fereldan…is a **_fiery_** woman,…most definitely **_not_** into sharing,…but it is fun to tease her…all the same.”

Suddenly, Solas was laughing, though it came out as huffs of breath. “At least now…I can finally tell you…You missed it… _Alhasha_ asked a question for you…when we…got back to Skyhold…teased a Chantry mother…asking about…holy oils, and orgies…yelled it out for all to hear…when the poor woman tried to escape…in order to keep the woman…from bullying Lavellan.”

Zevran chuckled, though not for long. “I asked…the same thing…of one of the mages…of the Fereldan Circle…It went about like that…That woman is something else…”

* * *

 

When Sebastian came in this time, he brought with him several soldiers, and made his way directly to Solas. It was as if the prince of Starkhaven had forgotten the antivan assassin was even there. There is no torture without respite, no pain without hope, and yet…Solas had to know what they were about to do to him, and yet he was not fearful. He looked almost passive, even when they cut the shirt from his body.

“Fascinating.” Sebastian murmured, taking in the scars.

Zevran had to agree with him. Solas's scars were fascinating, but he recognized them as something that the elven mage did not have before he'd seen him last. Something had happened, and Solas had taken her pain. Zevran wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he saw the first signs of trepidation on Solas's face, and knew things were going to get worse before they got better. It seemed that Sebastian saw it too.

“I was wondering if I would ever see a reaction from you, Fen'Harel.” Sebastian sneered. “Just what are these scars? Why do they mimic Hawke's Lyrium lines? Just what did you do to her?”

“I told you.” Solas replied, annoyed and frustrated. “I took her pain…It was **_you_** that did this to her… ** _Your_** red templars…mages…that gave her red lyrium poisoning.”

 **“ _Liar!_ ”** Sebastian shouted, and sliced into one of the scar lines on Solas's chest.

He could see Solas hold his breath, clinch his fists, in an effort to hold the pain in. It didn't matter. The further Sebastian cut along the lines, the deeper he went, the more pain he caused. Solas gasped, shaking his head side to side with his eyes closed. It was almost as if he were fighting with someone else, someone within himself.

“What is this?!” Sebastian shouted, angrily, when a flash of blue arched around Solas, sending the prince back a few feet. “What did you do?!”

Solas was shaking, breathing heavily, but it was not in fear. Anger rolled off the man in waves so strong Zevran nearly choked from it. The soldiers backed up just a little, as if they were afraid of a powerless elven mage that could not hurt them. Even Sebastian was looking a bit trepidatious, and he was the one holding the knife. Solas just shook his head, when he stopped shaking, and the anger seemed to all but vanish…sort of.

“So…this is what power is to you…” Solas concluded, before lifting his head to stare at Sebastian. “I saw you…in the Fade…I **_watched_** …as she walked with you…as she saw you safely to the Chantry…I saw what you did…what you **_tried_** to do…I saw her…push you away…( _Sebastian stabbed him in the shoulder then, and Solas clinched his jaw to keep from screaming_ )…I saw her…fight you off…( _Sebastian sliced along another scar line, this time near his ribs_ )…I felt… ** _everything_** you did to her…(that stopped the prince short)…Tell me something…Is that what good men **_do_** these days?…Is your Maker smiling on you now?”

* * *

 

In a flash, Hawke was on the ground, curled into herself, her forehead touching the ground. She could hear Lavellan by her side, checking her over in an effort to see what was wrong. Hawke knew, but she was too caught up in the pain to tell her. She was feeling Solas's pain again. For days there had been sporadic torturing, drugging, unending pain, and they were no closer to finding him than they were before.

When Hawke came to, she was in their room. She hadn't even realized she'd even passed out. Biscuit was asleep next to her, and Cole was pressing a cold cloth to her forehead. Just what the fuck were they doing to him? Maybe…Maybe Cole could find him.

“I can't help him.” Cole said, reading her easily. “He has to **_need_** me, to let me in, but he isn't. He **_won't._** He's keeping me out, trying to block his mind from me, and I can't get to him. I tried…”

“It's okay, Cole.” Hawke said, realizing how much the boy was agonizing over this.

“Short breaths keep the pain light, anything to keep from hurting her. Shouldn't have goaded him. Eyes closed so she can't see him, it's best she never know.” Cole said, as he sat by the bed, and then he straightened up. “ _Ar lath na, Lath'in, ara vhenan…ara vhen'an bre nuven'in…Sathan, tel esay vena em…Sathan, vevar eth…lanasta'em…Ar reva na o'em, ara lath._ ”

**_I love you, Love, my home…my hearts deepest wish…Please, don't try to find me…Please, stay safe…forgive me…I free you from me, my love_ **

Hawke sat up in bed before she could think better of it.

“Solas!” She exclaimed, alarmed. If that was him, it sounded very much like he was preparing to do something stupid.

“He is hurting, but won't let me help. He keeps me out, but he can't keep **_you_** out.” Cole said, as he helped her lay back against the headboard. “You can help him where I can't. Use the connection before he tries to cut it. He **_will_** try, but I don't know if he **_can_ _._** He would do anything to keep you safe, including something that will hurt him. That would definitely hurt him.”

“I don't know _**how,**_ Cole!” Hawke said, distressed. “All I know is I can feel his pain, and I need him to be safe! I need him to-”

She stopped talking, because her surroundings had shifted so suddenly that she was in shock. It felt like everything was moving, rocking gently, and she could smell the salt on the air. They were on a ship, crossing the sea! A door had closed, and she realized that whoever was keeping him here had left. When Hawke made to leave her hiding place, her breath caught in her throat. Seeing Solas strung up, bloodied and beaten, tore at her.

“Solas!” She whispered, in alarm, when she got to him.

There was no response that he'd heard her. Only when she cupped his face in her hands, did she see any kind of reaction from him. It was as if his eyes could not comprehend her being there, even as she caressed his face. The look on his face when he finally realized she was **_really_** there, was heartbreaking. She kissed him, gently because his face looked like he'd been hit a lot, and he rested his forehead against her own.

“ _Ir abelas, Lath'in_ …I meant to try and destroy the bond…I thought it would keep you _**safe**_ …but I could not… _Ra shar nuven'athe o'em_.” Solas rasped, and the sound broke her heart. “Dorian said…it would hurt you **_more_** …if I did something so foolish, like leave you behind…Please, you can not stay here…You must go.”

**_I'm sorry, Love…It was selfish of me_ **

“You can not expect me to **_leave_** you here.” Hawke hissed, all of a sudden angry at him.

“Yes, _Alhasha_ , that is…exactly…what I expect.” Solas insisted. She made to object, but he cut her off. “ _Lath'in_ , unless you can…heal both Zevran and myself…rid me of the magebane…flooding my system…and take on…an entire ship of soldiers,…that is…exactly…what I expect you to do.”

“Tell me who has you. Where is the ship going?” She pleaded, but he shook his head in stubborn resistance. “Damn it, Solas, _Ar shor vena na,_ and when I do, you are in **_so_** much trouble.”

He huffed, his lips curling up just a touch, as he whispered. “Only _**you,** Alhasha_ , would vow to rescue me, and then threaten me within the same sentence.”

* * *

 

“You would really…have destroyed the bond?” Zevran asked, in surprise., keeping his voice low.

“I would have,…to keep her safe.” Solas admitted, saddened. “ _As suleva garahnen_.”

Solas does not translate, though he knows now that Zevran does not understand elvhen. It is not something that needs to be translated. Whether it is because he instinctively knows their meaning, or that he can read people easily, the words are quite clear to him. **_She means everything_**. That Fen'Harel would try to sever the bond with his nas'falon in order to try and keep her safe…it made Zevran wonder what else they didn't know.

“When we…get out of this,…we will have to share stories,…you and I.” Zevran decided, with a slight laugh, though the pain in his ribs cuts it short.

“So sure…we will live?” Solas asked, keeping his tone light, even as he cracks a slight smile.

“So sure…she isn't going…to kill him…or you?” Zevran cracks, and even Solas has to laugh a little at that.

* * *

 

The doors to the War Room burst open, and Hawke stormed into the room. She was angry, upset, and volatile. She was also closely followed by Jim, who was bravely following after her…if only to hesitantly try and keep her from entering this room. In Hawke's hand was a missive, one that she was never suppose to see, and Lavellan instantly regretted where this was going to go. She wondered, just how in all of Thedas, Hawke had even gotten hold of it.

“Explain this.” Hawke growled, slamming the parchment down on the table. **_“NOW!”_**

“Now, Hawke, this is-” Josephine said, gently, urging the woman to calm down.

 **“ _Don't_** you **_Hawke_** me! You have **_all_** seen this. You all **_know_** what it says, and not **_one_** of you saw fit to tell me.” Hawke declared, her aura practically singing with her magic, her hair dancing slightly in a breeze that did not exist in the room. “How **_long_** were you going to wait to tell me that Vael sent a missive, demanding for me and Anders to be released to him? How long were you going to **_wait_** to tell me he is the one that has Solas **_and_** Zevran **_hostage_?** Just when the fresh **_fuck_** were you planning on telling me that he has decided to **_attack_** Kirkwall until his demands are met?”

“Hawke, we-” Cullen spoke gently, but Hawke slammed her fist into the war table, effectively splitting it in half. “Damn it, Hawke, it's **_too_** dangerous.”

“What would **_you_** do?” She asked, pinning him with a glare. “If he had Lavellan, and demanded you go to him, what would you do? Not The Commander, not The Inquisition, You. Cullen Stanton Rutherford, you can not **_possibly_** tell me that you would **_abandon_** her because it's too **_dangerous_ ,** to leave her to be tortured until her mind broke, until there was nothing left of her, because that was what was **_best_** for the Inquisition.”

“The Inquisition can not-” Cassandra tried to explain.

“Get in my way, and there won't **_be_** an Inquisition, Seeker.” Hawke snapped, pinning Cassandra with a glare now.

“We shouldn't have kept this from you, but we were trying to work out what to do, and we didn't want anyone flying off the handle too soon.” Lavellan said, bringing Hawke back to herself.

“Trying to work out what to do? The man had an agent of the Inquisition taken **_directly_** from Skyhold!” Hawke stated, not impressed in the slightest. “What the fuck do you **_think_** you're suppose to do with that?”

“The Inquisition can not just **_march_** into Kirkwall.” Josephine explained, sympathetically. “We have been trying to figure out a way to rescue him without provoking a war.”

“If that wasn't a deliberate act of war, I don't know what is.” Hawke growled, her voice low and dangerously deep, effectively silencing the woman.

“Alright, Hawke. What do you need?” Cullen asked, surprising Lavellan and the others.

“A **_ship_.”** Hawke replied, simply.

“There'll be one waiting for you when you reach the docks.” Cullen stated. As soon as Hawke was gone, he turned to the others. “We have a very small window of time to get things moving. Hawke is not one to wait. I'm actually surprised it took her this long to fly into a rage.”

“Exactly what are you proposing, Cullen?” Cassandra asked, curiously.

“We can't **_all_** go, and she'd never accept our help with the way she is right now, but some of us can at **_least_** go and stow away on the ship.” Cullen stated. “That woman is going to need all the help she can get if she's to go up against the armies of Starkhaven. If I know her at all, that's _**exactly**_ what she plans on doing.”

* * *

 

She'd turned and left the room before they could ask her anything else, so she didn't hear if they were talking anymore. Maybe she shouldn't have lost her temper like she had, but they'd already wasted valuable time she could have spent getting over to Kirkwall and kicking Vael's ass. Several people tried to talk to her on her way to her room to pack, but she ignored them all. There was no playing nice with a noble today, and she was in far too foul a mood to be dealing with any of them. Rage fueled her actions now, gave her energy she didn't know what to do with, and because of that she made excellent time in making her way to the docks.

“They want to help.” Cole said, suddenly standing next to her on the ship. “You should let them.”

“What they **_want_** is to make a bunch of excuses about bureaucratic horse shit that makes no sense.” Hawke fussed, as she set about trying to get everything ready. “That rat bastard had Solas taken from right next to me as I lay _**sleeping!**_ They left without anyone seeing them. How am I not suppose to be angry that they've been stalling? If you want to stay and help, fine, but I'm not talking about this anymore.”

* * *

 

Solas wasn't sure where they were now, and he hadn't been able to enter the Fade to find out. The closer they got to wherever they were going, the more irrational Vael became. Enduring torture was not something he had had to deal with since well before the first of the wars, but if it meant keeping Alhasha out of reach of Vael, he'd endure it. It didn't help that he was regularly forced to drink Magebane in rather large quantities. He was surprised that he had been able to keep any semblance of sanity after that, and believed that it was thanks to Alhasha that he was able to keep his mind at all. She hadn't been back since that first night, but he knew she was doing her best to keep tabs on him, and she was very angry.

He didn't know whether to be grateful for her help, or feel guilty that in some way he was the cause of her pain, and wondered if this is what she felt like after The red lyrium poisoning incident. He'd managed to keep the worst of the torture from her, of **_that_** he was certain. The door opened again, pulling him from his thoughts, and Vael and the soldiers entered the room. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Vael sent the soldiers away.

“You destroyed an empire.” Vael stated, businesslike. “How?”

“Is that what you really wish to know?” Solas asked, looking at the prince with calculating eyes. “You have access to knowledge that is…well over 10,000 years old,…and that is what you truly wish to know?”

“The stories say you locked away the other elvhen gods, that you hid in some dark corner of the Fade to laugh about it.” Vael trudged on, ignoring Solas's clear offer of other knowledge.

“The stories say many things…” Solas conceded, seeing that he would not sway the man from what he wanted to know. “Things were **_good_** once…before the wars…before we were Generals…or Kings…or gods…There was peace…but the people fought amongst themselves,…and the wars began…and we were made into Generals and Kings…The day we achieved immortality for our people…we became gods…or so we told ourselves.”

“How does this help me?” Vael asked, impatiently.

“It **_doesn't,_** but you wanted to know.” Solas replied, closing his eyes, hoping the anger would go away. “The end began…with the murder of _Mythal…_ A _s_ the best of us, she kept the peace…When she was murdered, my betrayal began…I created the Veil…but it took…centuries…and in that time, the others indulged in their every whim…with me dancing to their tune…It wasn't until… _Sulahn'ean_ …that I acted on my plans.”

“Sulahn'ean?…I don't know that one.” Vael stated, looking doubtful.

“Nor would you. The others…refused to acknowledge her standing…as a new _Evanuris.”_ Solas explained. “She hunts better than she knows…and I was caught before I knew…”

“You mean…” Vael stammered, scowling and fuming, not sure yet where to direct his rage.

“Yes… _Sulahn'ean_ is the one you call Hawke.” Solas replied, unable to hold back a slight smirk. “The magic that took her in Redcliffe…was **_mine_** …”

“You…You…” Vael stammered, getting angrier all the time now.

“We were **_betrayed_** …my people were betrayed…and the others hid themselves away…” Solas continued. “She was willing to fight Tevinter…but I had no way of knowing…what that would do to her timeline…So I hid her away…forced myself to forget…erected the Veil…and I slipped into the Fade…with no understanding of my rage…Make no mistake, Vael, I had someone to protect…and so I did,…but you…You do not wish to protect her,…not really…Do not pretend otherwise…You wish to **_claim_** her,…as if she is something to be owned.”

“Isn't that what **_you_** did?” Vael asked, sneering at him.

“No…and **_yes_**.” Solas admitted, slightly smiling at the memory of it. “I am hers…as much as…she is mine…”

“The mark on her ankle…I'm told you created it.” Vael stated, looking angry again.

“I did.” Solas admitted.

“How? Tell me!” Vael demanded.

“It will not work for you.” Solas said, shaking his head. “I called for my _nas'falon_ …listed impossible traits…secret wishes…a last hope…It will not work or you.”

“Why won't it work for me?” Vael demanded, losing his patience. “Aren't you **_forcing_** her to love you? Isn't that what the spell **_does?”_**

“You can not force her to **_love_** you.” Solas stated, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “No magic can give you _**that**_ …The spell I cast…took into consideration…everything I am…everything **_she_** is…She is…my match…in **_every_** way…It will not work for you.”

“Why would you tell me this?” Vael demanded.

“Because you said…you wanted to know.” Solas replied, as if he were talking to an unruly student. “And because…at the end of this…you will be dead.”

Vael reached over, and undid the chain that held him up, and Solas fell in an unceremonious heap. Before Solas could react beyond sitting up on his knees, pain exploded on the left side of his head. Vael had taken some kind of board or pipe, and hit him right above his ear. Solas's head nearly bounced off of the floor with the force of it. He closed his eyes, tried to control his breathing, but knew that he had not hidden this from her. It had been too sudden for that, and now her alarm rocked through him.

However, from his position on the floor, Solas noticed something Vael had not. Zevran had escaped his shackles. Vael had not yet noticed Zevran's absence, though that was about to change soon he knew. Vael's attention would turn from him soon enough, and then he was bound to notice Zevran's absence. So, closing his eyes once more, Solas concentrated on sending calm to Alhasha, and hoped that the woman was not about to do something reckless, something that was easier said than done considering that Vael had not stopped kicking him.

* * *

 

At that moment, Hawke leaned against a wall as a wave of dizziness hit her. She was sure that if she looked, she'd find bruises along her rib cage. This was helping him, right? Or was Vael just hitting him harder to get the amount of damage he wanted? She couldn't seem to catch her breath, and each one was harder to take than the last.

Suddenly Anders was in front of her, hand above her, focused on healing. She couldn't breathe, couldn't focus long enough to be angry at him for stowing away on the ship, but she was grateful that he was there. As her breathing came back to her more easily, she noticed that Cole was moving about the ship and looking into things as if he were trying to find something. Another stow away, Hawke realized as Varric fell out of a barrell Cole tipped over, the kid had been looking for another stow away.

“Who else is here?” She asked, managing to stand away from the wall.

“Me and Varric, obviously.” Anders said, a bit nervous now. “Um, I think Fenris. Not sure if Blackwall was able to make it. I think Iron Bull managed to hide somewhere though, and there's a good bet that Dorian is here too. It was a bit hectic trying to get here before you did, you know.”

“So, what happened, and why didn't you come find us sooner, Kid?” Varric asked, seeing Hawke as she was.

“Dark till he comes, questions and answers, he seeks what he can not have.” Cole answered, cryptically, stiffened as if something else just came to mind, and continued. “He knows she will come, plans for it, but he will **_not_** have her.”

“Can either of you make sense of that?” Anders asked, not understanding yet.

“I think he's talking about Vael, from Solas's point of view.” Hawke said, after a moment.

“Yes.” Cole insisted,nodding to her. “Darkness and pain, power for a price, but he endures. The bonds can not be broken. He feels guilt for having tried, **_more_** for causing her pain now. He holds the pain to himself, till he can't anymore. Surprises are hard to hold. Kneeling before a Vael, questions and answers. He does not see till it is too late, and the pain of it is sent to her. Please be safe, _Lath'in,_ I can not bear it if you are gone.”

“Shit!” Varric cursed, as he began pacing. “He's torturing him?!”

“Vael's mind is splintered. Too many fragmented pieces to fix. I can not heal his hurt.” Cole said, worriedly, fretting about. “What he wants, he should not ask for. I don't know how to help. The good parts call out for help, but the bad parts do too.”

“Don't focus on Vael.” Hawke insisted, bringing the spirit back to himself. “What's happening to Solas?”

Cole concentrates for a moment, rocking back and forth, as if lost in thought, before saying. “It is soft, quiet, but I can hear him. He will not call to me, but he is not shutting me out. I don't think he **_can_** anymore…He has endured much, but he can not keep the pain from you forever. He is already failing, and Vael is set to push him till he can hurt you through _**him**._ ”

At that, Hawke became angry again. She'd let the pain get to her when he was enduring far more than she was, and she was mad at him for keeping her from it. Granted, she knew very well that she would do the exact same thing, but she wasn't going to think on that for long. Right now, she needed the anger to fuel her magic. As it was, she wasn't entirely sure she could do this.

“One of you needs to steer the ship.” Hawke stated, as she moved to the back of the ship. “I'm not going to be able to do both.”

“What exactly are you going to be doing?” Varric asked, as Iron Bull went to where she'd suggested.

“Remember that storm idea I had?” Hawke asked, looking over her shoulder. **_“That.”_**

* * *

 

“Aveline!” She heard Donnic shout.

It wasn't often he slipped up and called her her name while they were at work, but for the past few months they'd been having to deal with Starkhaven forces, so they were always at work now. She was in charge of the resisting forces, the templars having left long before now. Standing over a table filled with reports and maps of the city, Aveline had been trying to find a way to use them to her advantage. Sebastian had been here longer than her, but she'd be damned if she let him take over **_her_** city. Suddenly, Donnic came into her office, and half carrying someone she had never expected to see.

“Ah, hello, Guard Captain.” Zevran said, in way of greeting. “Seems this is the place to be, no?”

“Why wasn't he taken to a healer?” Aveline asked, looking to Donnic. “Are there none left in the city? Even an apothecary would do right now.”

“He insisted, Love, said there was information we needed to know.” Donnic replied, in all seriousness, as he helped Zevran to a chair. “I'll go fetch a healer while you talk to him. I imagine you don't want him bleeding out in the office.”

“Thank you, Donnic.” She said, grateful. When he was gone, she turned her attention to Zevran, who was trying very much to look like he was casually lounging instead of being in pain. “What are you on about, Zevran?”

“Sebastian isn't after the city.” Zevran explained, pained. “He's just taking it over to get to the one he wants.”

“I know that!” Aveline growled, angered she was even having to deal with Sebastian at all. “He wants Anders, but he isn't here.”

“No. His primary goal is not Anders. That is just a side benefit.” Zevran corrected. “He wants Hawke.”

“Why? Because she let Anders live?” Aveline asked, enraged. “Death would have been too **_good_** for that man!”

“You misunderstand me, Aveline.” Zevran insisted, shaking his head.

“You mean he…” Aveline asked, seemingly unable to think what he is suggesting.

“He **_wants_** Hawke. It was all he could talk about while I was stuck with that measly bastard; How he would save her from herself, make her love him. He has lost his mind.” Zevran explained. “He's determined to make Hawke love him, even if he has to threaten everyone she loves in order to do it.”

* * *

 

Seeing the statues of slaves chained to the cliffs always disturbed her, and even now a sense of dread filled her. Sebastian was already here somewhere, the letter that had been left promised as much. Everyone, whether they had been speaking or not, took a moment to stare up at them. There were no words said, and soon they were beyond the statues. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they passed through.

The Gallows was in shambles, the red lyrium statue of Knight Captain Meredith still prominently on display, but they did not linger there for long. For that, Hawke was thankful. It was eerie, to have the Gallows be so silent. There had always been someone there, but it was as silent as a grave now. There were still a few small row boats left, and the group took one to enter the city, not knowing where Vael's forces would be.

“Hawke? Hawke, is that you?” She hears, and turns to see Guardsman Maecon behind one of the many barricades they'd seen throughout the city.

“Guardsman Maecon!” Hawke realizes. “You lucky bastard! How are you alive?”

“Guard-Captain Aveline keeps us organized well enough, we don't have time to die off.” Guardsman Maecon cracked. “Come on, she'll be happy to see you…Wait, you brought **_Anders_ _?”_**

“He's fine now, un-possessed and everything.” Hawke quipped, deciding that she'd better start walking or else Maecon was going to stall them forever. “I also have a qunari still loyal to the Qun with me too, and Fenris hasn't killed him yet, if you want to freak out about that. Oh, and that guy over there is from Tevinter, you know, because I like to round things out. Have you noticed the spirit boy in the large purple hat yet?”

Fenris, Dorian, and Iron Bull roll their eyes at her antics. She doesn't actually see this, but somehow still knows it. Guardsman Maecon hesitates for a moment, but he must decide that it's better for Aveline to deal with it than him, because he begins leading the way. The city has changed much due to Vael's attempts to take it over, and it saddens her that she is in part responsible for this. The people they begin to see moving about regard her and the others with suspicion and wariness, but they see Maecon and understand.

It seems someone has run ahead of them, because as soon as they get to the keep, she can hear Aveline. Maker's breath, she'd missed that woman, regarding her more of a mother figure than any of the others in the group she'd paraded around Kirkwall with. The woman didn't even wait inside the Keep, as she normally would have for visiting guests, this being strange times in Kirkwall. Instead, Aveline practically stomped down the steps with purpose. Hawke wasn't sure what to say, but Aveline saved her from having to decide that.

“Hawke, while I wish I could say it was lovely to see you, you've come at a really bad time.” Aveline stated, when the two stopped in front of each other. “You should follow me. There's something you need to see.”

Hawke followed without hesitation. After all, this was Aveline. The others followed, albeit a bit more hesitantly. The woman hadn't paid Fenris, Varric, or Dorian any mind, but Iron Bull, Anders, and Cole got glaring looks before she'd made to show them the way. Aveline didn't talk for a while, making her way through the Keep, possibly to her office. Hawke wasn't really sure what her friend wanted to show her, but considering the state of the city, she could only imagine.

“Starkhaven forces have made their way through the outer city. We've had no contact with anyone on the outside since this began, and I honestly didn't think anyone from the Inquisition would help us. The only reason I had any reason to suspect you were coming at all was Zevran. The man showed up here a couple of hours ago, saying he'd escaped from Sebastian's hold, in pretty bad shape. We had to sedate him to get him to rest at all.” Aveline said, as they made their way. “Sebastian's men have been sending negotiators, hoping we'll back down, but yesterday they came with something else. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but with what Zevran's told me, I think it's for you.”

“What is it?” Hawke asked, warily. They'd made it to Aveline's office, but Hawke chose to stand, while everyone else found seats throughout the place.

“I'm not sure.” Aveline said, getting a wrapped parcel out from one of the drawers in her desk.

Hawke sat down. Now that she had the package in hand, things were beginning to feel a little too closed in. However, cold fury washed over her the moment she uncovered the contents. It was a wolf's jaw bone tied with a bit of leather strap which hung off of a much longer bit of leather, the necklace Solas always wore. It had even been under his clothes he wore to the Winter Palace, and now it was here without him, and Hawke could only stare at it.

“Hawke, what is it?” Aveline asked, worried for her friend.

Hawke said nothing for a moment, and then looked over to Aveline. “Where is Merrill?”

 


	28. Kirkwall's Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She will not stop till he is dead, but before that...there are surprises again. It's good, having most of the gang back together, but they unite for a bittersweet purpose. Hawke fights to get to Solas, and Aveline fights for her city, but is it enough?

Chapter 28

 

Merrill had taken her role in the city much more seriously in recent years. The elves here looked to her as their Keeper now, and she did what she could for them. This clan that they had created was unlike any clan before them, a ragtag group of souls, but they were family. Since Sebastian had begun attacking the city, she'd taken to protecting the elves with primal magic, things she learned from other mages in the Fade, and it kept her people safe.

Knock, _knock, **knock.**_ So impatient, Merrill thought. Sometimes the children would do that, knock repeatedly, thinking she would get there faster to play with them. It had never worked before, and it certainly wasn't going to work now, so Merrill set about slowly cleaning up. The knocking sound came more urgently this time, followed by a voice she had not heard in a long time.

“Merrill, so help me, if you don't open this door!” Merrill quickly ran to the door, and pulled the woman into a hug before she could object.

“Hawke!” Merrill squealed, happily. “I can't believe it's you! Where you have been? We have so much to catch up on!”

“Merrill, I…I need your help, and you aren't going to believe me; Fuck! I wouldn't believe me, and I've been living it the past several months, and…” Hawke stated, looking utterly frazzled.

“He found you then, didn't he?” Merrill asked, surprising her friend. She closed the door behind her friend, and gently pushed her into her living space. _“Fen'Harel_? He found you?”

Merrill knew her living space wasn't much to boast about. She'd never needed a whole lot, having a knack for finding what she needed when she needed it. Her walls were bare, save for a few paintings she'd rather liked. Hawke had never once made her feel less for her obvious lack of money, because Hawke had never placed importance on it. Even when she moved to HighTown, Merrill knew she could always count on Hawke's friendship.

They had been through too much to place importance on material things. It was why she knew Hawke needed to pace as she was now. The woman had all this pent up energy, her magic coming alive around her, singing through her aura. The others would notice it too if she couldn't get her friend to calm down, what with Hawke practically broadcasting her magic as she was now. However, Merrill's question had caught Hawke by surprise…and then she went back to pacing again.

“Cursed. You said I was **_cursed,_** Merrill.” Hawke stated, sounding very annoyed.

“Well, that's what the stories said about the mark.” Merrill said, a bit flummoxed. “How was I suppose to know that the word for chosen got misconstrued into cursed over the years? I had to do a lot of research to figure that out after you had to leave. The only reason I even thought to do that was because Varric had sent me what he'd heard about it, probably from a more reliable source now that I think about it, and that was ages ago.”

“Then you…then you…wait…you **_know?”_** Hawke asked, in shock, sitting down in one of the empty chairs.

“I know **_now_ _._ ”** Merrill said, confirming what Hawke asked, sitting in the chair closest to her. “I didn't know then. It is an honour, to know that I can count _Sulahn'ean_ as my friend, but you will always be Hawke to me.”

“I would ask how you figured all that out, but right now I need your help.” Hawke stated, unable to keep still any longer, and set off to pacing around the living space again. “Vael has Solas. He's using him to lure me in, because he knows I'll go. I know what he wants, a trade, but he wouldn't honour it even if it was something I would agree to. Vael will kill him the second I agreed to something like that.”

“Solas?” Merrill asked, trying to follow her friend's train of thought.

“ _Fen'Harel._ Vael has _Fen'Harel,_ and he will **_kill_** him to get to me.” Hawke insisted, still pacing. “I need your help, Merrill.”

“Oh!” Merrill exclaimed, understanding dawning on her that of course Fen'Harel would not use that name now. In all honesty, she had not thought to ask. “What do you have in mind?”

“ I need you to use whatever primal magic you can, blood magic only if you're sure you can control it, anything that you think would help us. You've always trusted your instincts, and I need that now.” Hawke stated, having stopped her pacing, looking to her with wide frantic filled eyes. “Can you do that for me? Trust your instincts? Use whatever magic you think fits the moment?”

“Hawke, even when I don't trust my own instincts, I trust yours.” Merrill stated, gesturing for her friend to sit down again. “If you think that I can control the blood magic without getting possessed, then I can, though let's not jump to that first. Now, let's start planning something. You still like really epic, and possibly extremely stupid, crazy ideas, right?”

Hawke's responding watery and yet wolfish grin was answer enough. It was filled with her frazzled nerves, her relief, and now her joy. It was only a moment more, before the two were laughing together. It had been some time since the last time they had schemed together like this, though Merrill much preferred what Hawke termed as playful pranks. This certainly would be one for the history books, which made her wonder if maybe Varric was already working on that.

* * *

 

Hawke wasn't even sure this plan would work, but it was one that she'd worked on with the help of the entire clan Merrill had pulled together. **_That_** was something she never would have thought, Merrill in charge of a clan, but it suited her. It seemed that through dreams, Solas had actually managed to reach Merrill, teach things the Dalish had taken for granted or false, and in turn she had relayed what she learned to the elves in the alienage. She'd thought he'd stopped trying to find someone who would believe him when he spoke of ancient Arlathan, but it seemed he had not, and she wondered if maybe he had realized that this was a friend of hers. These people knew, and many looked forward to the day they no longer had to wear vallas'lin.

She couldn't risk their lives, but Merrill refused to leave her side, and they followed her example. It seemed she would have to do this with a lot more help than she thought she would have. The alienage had been set up as a kind of base, while some of the others had gone to her estate to do the same to it. The place was certainly big enough, and she wasn't going to be there for a while. She'd happily let them use the place if they needed an escape, and the cellar more than provided one.

“Flint, do you mind telling me what you're doing with an army of elves?” Varric asked, startling her. She'd been so preoccupied going over charts with Merrill and a few of the others, that all of her other senses had been dulled.

“I'm going after Solas.” Hawke answered, with finality. “Where are the others?”

“Aveline is still at the Keep, going over Vael's troop movements. Anders is with the wounded; You know him, healing, and whatnot. The Kid is…doing whatever it is he does, probably trying to help Aveline. Iron Bull is actually still there too, probably thinks he can help her figure out Vael's tactics, and as you can see, Dorian and Fenris are with me.” Varric said, with his usual flair. The entire alienage had tensed the moment they saw him, and it only got worse when he asked. “Now, what are we doing?”

“They know.” Hawke stated, and everyone seemed to relax at that, but she didn't look up from the maps of the city. “Dorian, how's your levitation magic? There's an _el'u'vian_ in Merrill's place. If you can, I'll need you to float that thing to the Hawke estate. The demon's not in it anymore, and Solas may be able to fix it. Are there other mages here? ( _She looked up when she asked this, and a few hesitantly raised their hands_ ) Good. Merrill, if it's alright with you, they could help Dorian? While Dorian is an accomplished mage, objects like these tend to respond better to _elvhen_ magic.”

“You're _tavhen,_ and you're still willing to help us?” One of the elven mages asked, looking to Dorian.

“Shocking, I know.” Dorian said, with a sly grin. “Don't let it go to your head though. I expect I'll do something that annoys someone soon enough.”

“If you'll agree to it?” Merrill asked, leaving the decision up to them. The elven mages looked to each other, back to Merrill, and nodded. “Oh, good. I love it when a plan comes together.”

“Fenris, will you go with them?” Hawke asked, looking to Fenris now. “They might need defending, and they can't move that thing and fight with their magic at the same time.”

“Absolutely not.” Fenris growled, and before anyone could react, he continued. “You think you can divert everyone away from the battlefield while you face Vael's men alone? Hawke, you must be out of your Maker be damned mind if you think for one instant that I would agree to that.”

“Well, then what do you suggest?” Hawke huffed, indignantly. She had actually thought she could do that, but she had underestimated Fenris's ability to read her.

“Can any of you fight?” Fenris asked, looking to the elves that had gathered.

“We defended the alienage against the qunari.” One of the elves stated, gesturing between him and some of the others. “It didn't involve a lot of fighting, but barriers and such.”

“We went beyond the perimeter to dissuade them from attacking the alienage.” Another stated, gesturing to which ones had helped him.

“Alright then. You two.” Fenris stated, pointing to a couple of the fighters. “And you two.” He continued, pointing to a couple of the defenders. “Go with them. The fighters can act as active defense while in route, while the engineers can focus on building defenses when they get there.”

They seemed to be pleased with that.

“You know, the estate might actually be closer than the alienage.” Varric said, looking over the map as well. “There's only so many places Starkhaven's troops can attack from, even fewer they can defend.”

“You're sure?” Hawke asked, hopeful now. “You were here much longer than me.”

“Born and raised, and yeah.” Varric stated, more certain. “I'm sure.”

“Mothers and children should go to the Hawke estate. Anyone that can fight should stay and help Aveline defend the city, while Hawke, Fenris, Varric, and I go get Solas.” Merrill stated, looking to the others to see if they had any objections. They had none. “Gather everything you can that's easy to carry. We may need more fighters and engineers to come with us for a bit.”

* * *

 

Varric wasn't sure what they were all doing, even after going over the plan with them. Daisy and Flint seemed to be on a whole other plane of existence when it came to what they were doing. She was moving the alienage into her estate? Granted, Hawke didn't live there really right now, and it wasn't like the place wasn't big enough, but what about when all this was over? Didn't she want to move back into her place?

He could see her fiddling with the leather string that was tied around the wolf's jaw bone. She'd taken to wearing the thing like Solas did, but she nervously played with it, like she was trying to keep her hands busy. Her eyes kept darting around, as if she expected Vael to show up at any moment. But when it finally happened, when the messenger returned with Vael's demands, Flint was once again in an eerie calm. She was crossing the open space before anyone had even thought to stop her.

Daisy followed quickly after her, as if she already knew what was going on. Fenris and Varric just looked at each other before scrambling off after them. They came upon Tiny discussing tactical maneuvers with some of the guardsmen, just shy of the barricade. There was no Flint or Daisy in sight, and Varric groaned, knowing they had gone beyond the barricade without them. Finding Tiny quickly, he walked over and cracked him in the knee cap with Bianca.

“Vashedan!” Iron Bull curses, before growling at him. “What was that for?”

“How could you let her go off into that alone?” Varric demanded, crossing his arms after re holstering Bianca.

“Have you ever tried to stop that woman from doing anything?” Iron Bull asked in return, arching an eyebrow at him, knowing the answer to that. “Besides, she's not out there, not yet anyway. She's getting changed. Apparently, the Guard Captain kept all Hawke's old armour. So she's getting outfitted now, and they'll make the adjustments needed. Speaking of, why did no one think to tell me the Guard Captain was a red head?”

“Probably because said red head is married.” Aveline stated, with a smirk, shaking her head as she walked out to them. “Happily, I might add.”

“See, this is one of the disadvantages of the Qun.” Iron Bull grossed. “You all have first dibs on the red heads.”

“I'm sure Flint could turn Dorian's hair red for you.” Varric teased.

The joking stopped with Flint stepped into view. The look on her face spoke of a determined air, and only for the briefest of moments did Varric allow himself to feel sorry for Vael. Flint walked towards them with the confidence she'd built up over having to fight for as long as she had, in full Champion armour. The wolf skull mask rested on top of her head, as it had even then. For Varric, it was like being hit with the past all over again, like the fight for the mages again.

Solas's wolf jaw bone necklace hung around her neck, and the metal plating rested over her very obviously elvhen shoes. Flint looked very much the warrior she had always been to him, her eyes steeled and otherworldly. Noise from the other side of the clearing put them on alert, and a strangled sound came from Flint's throat. Varric knew without looking, what he would find, but he still looked out beyond the clearing.

Vael had Solas strung up by his arms to a structure usually used for hangings, and if it wasn't for his bald head, Varric didn't think he would have recognized the elf. When Cole had described what was happening to Chuckles, Varric hadn't thought it was this bad. He should have realized what the Kid had been trying to tell him, that this is what he'd meant when he said that Solas was keeping the pain of it from her, that blood was caked all over him. Someone from the other side of the field was headed their way, and he realized that Flint was already on her way to meet them. She took one look at the missive they handed her, before looking back to the messenger.

“You know what this says?” She asked, her voice having a dangerous edge to it. The messenger shook his head no.

“I don't ask what's in the missives, but I'd be foolish to refuse to hand them out.” He replied, keeping his voice quiet. “If you're the one he's been raging about, leave while you can. This place is a death trap.”

“I'm rather good at escaping those, if you didn't know.” She stated, keeping her eyes on the paper. “This is your only warning, leave here now. The arrows won't be able to touch you. Go to The Hawke estate, and tell them that _Sulahn'ean_ requests you be kept safe. One of the others can go with you if you like, but if you stay…you will share the fate of everyone on this battlefield.”

“Thank you…” The messenger said, making his way towards Aveline, who directed him to the Hawke estate.

* * *

 

Her eyes stay on Solas for only a moment. There has been very little signs of life from him, but she is happy to know that he is alive. She can feel it through the bond, knows he does not expect anyone to come for him. In fact, it is something that he hopes for, that no one comes for him, as if that will keep her safe. Hawke put her hand to her throat, activating the spell that would allow her voice to be heard across the battlefield, and began.

“Listen, and listen well, soldiers of Starkhaven. Go home. This is not your fight, and I have no wish to kill you. If you stay, however, I will not hesitate to end your lives. Your would be King has taken one that is **_mine_ ,** and if I have to go through you all to get to him, I will do it.” Hawke stated, her voice cold and authoritative.

Not one of them moved, but she didn't think they would. At the sound of her voice though, Solas raises his head enough to see her across the battlefield, and though his eyes are nearly swollen shut, she knows he can see her. His eyes do not hold relief that she is there, instead they were pained, holding dread and sadness that he could not keep this from her, a plea for her to escape while she could. Vael noticed the exchange, and ordered his men to attack. If he could not have her, he would not let anyone have her.

There was a split second, a moment when she and Vael shared a glance. She looked at him with that wolfish grin, her trademark for when something or someone was about to die, and his eyes widened at the sight of it. Then the moment was gone, and she lowered the wolf skull mask, leaping into the fray. If she had her way, Vael wouldn't live to see the morning. She knew that he was dead, in her mind his body only had to catch up to that fact.

She darted through the battle, killing those that got in her way. Fire rained down from the sky, and explosions rocked the battlefield, while lightning struck at their enemies. Merrill followed her closely, using stone fists to keep people at pay, crushing many with thorn covered vines when they did not take the hint. Hawke knew her friend followed her, but at the moment her single minded focus was to get to Solas, and to crush Vael if she got the chance. She ran through them all, reacting on instinct and fury.

It occurred to her, in some back corner of her mind, that she could have just turned them to stone and been done with it, but thought better of it. In her anger, she may very well turn **_everyone_** into stone, and she didn't know how to undo that, or if it was even possible. So she sliced, and diced, and set things on fire, and ran without stopping. Runic circle lights split off, and burned, even as they cut those they passed. If anyone shouted for her, she did not hear them, and even if she had, she was **_not_** stopping.

* * *

 

Merrill stuck close by her, keeping away anyone who thought they could attack her from behind. This was a race, a fight, a rescue mission, and Hawke was not stopping. They'd made it through half the field before they were surrounded, but Hawke just struck them all with lightning without stopping, and ran them through. Merrill followed after her, sending a force wave to anyone who thought to try to get back up. Despite what she said, Merrill knew that Hawke didn't want to kill any more people than was warranted, and there was only one she really wanted dead.

As Merrill sent a stone fist at someone that had gotten a little too close, she took a moment to look around her. There was blood everywhere, and it didn't look like the ground would ever see green again. She was so exhausted, and she realized this is what Hawke meant. That woman was running on adrenaline and fury, and knew that Merrill wouldn't be able to do the same. She knew that Merrill would have exhausted herself magically at some point, and unless she got some blood to use for her spells, she'd have to cut herself again to do it.

Understanding dawned on her, as she looked around. Hawke had known this too, had not wanted Merrill to have to harm herself in order to help her, and so had given her a seemingly never ending supply to use for her magic. For the first time ever, Merrill had her own wolfish grin, instantly understanding why Hawke had them so much. When you faced death, and knew you could win, there was no reason not to smile back. Hawke trusted her; to not give in to a demon's offer, to know her limits, to have her back, and as the blood began to swirl around her, she knew she'd never fail Hawke again.

She kept things simple, blood blades, spikes as thin as needles that whizzed through the air and pierced the enemy. Blood bombs were for when they got surrounded again, because she knew that Hawke couldn't do that lightning trick too many more times without becoming magically exhausted. It happened so quickly that she didn't even notice it at first, but they had gotten too far ahead of the others. None of the other Kirkwall guards, or even those of her clan, had made it this far ahead; so they were on their own. Hawke was too far into her rage, too focused on Sebastian, to realized how alone they were now.

* * *

 

Moments before…

 

He looked over the battlefield, searching for her, impatient for this to be over. Being Prince came with certain privileges, after all, and getting what he wanted quickly was one of those things. Hawke, however, had always gone against that rule, something that had grated on his nerves to no end. The longer she had denied him, the longer he had wanted her. It wasn't about love, he was too pragmatic a man for that, this was about possession.

He wanted to possess Hawke in every way, and that blasted elf had gotten to the prize that should have been _his_ _._ Just listening to the man talk grated on Sebastian's nerves, how he acted better than him, even though Fen'Harel was the one in chains. It was enough to make him want to hit something. Sebastian had asked questions, but he'd not been prepared for the answers. That his Hawke was the soul mate of this…this abomination to the Maker, was too much to take.

 

_Flashback…_

 

“ _The mark on her ankle…I'm told you created it.” Sebastian stated, angrily._

“ _I did.” Fen'Harel admitted._

“ _How? Tell me!” Vael demanded._

“ _It will not work for you.” Fen'Harel said, shaking his head. “I called for my nas'falon…listed impossible traits…secret wishes…a last hope…It will not work or you.”_

“ _Why won't it work for me?” Sebastian demanded, losing his patience. “Aren't you_ ** _forcing_** _her to love you? Isn't that what the spell does?”_

“ _You can not **force** her to __love_ _you.” Fen'Harel stated, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “No magic can give you_ ** _that_** _ **…** The spell I cast…took into consideration…everything I am…everything _**_she_** _is…She is…my match…in_ ** _every_** _way…It will not work for you.”_

“ _Why would you tell me this?” Sebastian demanded._

“ _Because you wanted to know.” Fen'Harel replied, as if he were talking to an unruly student. “And because…at the end of this…you will be dead.”_

_Without hesitation, Sebastian reached over, and undid the chains that held Fen'Harel hanging by the ceiling. It brought a small bit of joy to him that the fallen elven god fell in an unceremonious heap. Besides, shouldn't he enjoy the torture of abominations against the Maker such as this one? That pipe over there looked like it would do well for this, and Sebastian took it without a second thought. The cracking sound it made as it hit Fen'Harel's skull was like music, and he watched as the elf bounced off of the floor with the force of it._

_This time, he did not stop, as he normally would have done. Something in him had snapped. This foul loathsome creature had been keeping his Hawke from him, had been responding to her advances. The thought that she had advanced on this abomination and not him sent another course of anger through him, and he began beating the elf, aiming for the ribs. After a while, a strangled plea caught his attention, and he actually stopped at the sound of it._

“ _Dian…Dian, Sathan…Tel'el.” Fen'Harel pleaded, his voice hoarse, shaking from the pain, tears streaming down his face. “Please stop…I can't…I can't keep this from her…It's too much…please…If you truly love her…please stop…”_

“ _What do you mean…you can't keep this from her?” Sebastian asked, having a feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer._

“ _If you love her…” Fen'Harel continued._

“ _ANSWER ME!” Sebastian shouted, angrily, and Fen'Harel winced._

“ _We are…kindred souls…True Kindred Souls…” Fen'Harel admitted, wincing at the pain. “Please…Please don't hurt her…”_

 

_Flashback end…_

 

He had not stopped, angry that something else had been taken from him. He'd beaten Fen'Harel till the man passed out from the pain of it, till he was sure Hawke felt the pain of it too, wanting her to hurt just as much as he thought he'd been hurt. Sebastian no longer cared that she did not love him, but it irked him that this was one more thing of her he could not possess, one more thing Fen'Harel had taken from him. Now, he watched as the man hung from his new location, what should have been a hangman's platform. There was an odd satisfaction in seeing the man so beaten.

Yet, as he watched Hawke look across the battlefield, that all ended. It wasn't to him she looked, it was to Fen'Harel. Anger welled up within him, seeing the pained look that crossed her face. Damn it, she should be looking at him, not that abomination! So lost was he in his anger, that he had not noticed when she'd begun to walk out onto the field.

“Listen, and listen well, soldiers of Starkhaven. Go home. This is not your fight, and I have no wish to kill you. If you stay, however, I will not hesitate to end your lives. Your would be King has taken one that is **_mine_ ,** and if I have to go through you all to get to him, I will do it.” Hawke stated, her voice cold and authoritative.

Not one of them moved, but they were loyal to Starkhaven, and he knew it. At the sound of her voice though, Fen'Harel lifted up his head enough to see her across the battlefield. The same look of pain that Hawke had flits across his face. More than that, there was a plea for her to escape, for her to leave him there and be safe. He was trying to keep her from him, **_again_ _!_**

Sebastian looked from Fen'Harel to Hawke, could see the overwhelming love and concern on her face, and was angered by it. It was not for him, something else Fen'Harel had stolen from him. He couldn't believe that Hawke would walk out onto the battlefield alone, that she would agree to his demands, but then he saw the guards of Kirkwall, the elves from the alienage, and…Was that **_Anders?!_**   Well, this was certainly icing on the cake at least, revenge for Grand Cleric Elthina at last.

“Bring Hawke and Anders to me! Leave no one else alive!” Sebastian shouted, sending the soldiers after them.

He would stay here by her love, and watch. He wanted to see the light go out of Fen'Harel's eyes when he realized Hawke would leave him to save him. Maker's Breath! While the men and women of Kirkwall stayed in loose formation to defend the city, Hawke and a few others charged across the battlefield. It seemed she meant to kill him then. No soldier could get close enough without being roasted alive in a variety of different ways, and even in death his soldiers fueled Merrill's magic to aid Hawke.

“She is quite something…isn't she?” Fen'Harel asked, as he tried to keep his head up to watch her. “Did I ever tell you…she attacked me?…Broke my nose…set me on fire…She is…exquisite…”

“Shut up! Don't talk about her!” Sebastian demanded, turning his eyes back to the battlefield.

“Why?…Worried that…I might be right?” The elven man asked, breathlessly.

“I said. Shut! Up!” Sebastian shouted, angrily, turning to the elf now.

“You wasted…the gift…that was her mercy…, So, you know…You **_have_** to know…” Fen'Harel stated, breathlessly, a threatening edge to his voice. “…If **_she_** doesn't kill you… ** _I_ ** will…”

The elf's eyes flickered across the battlefield, before setting back on him. Instantly, Sebastian turned to see what Fen'Harel had seen, and gasped. Hawke was a **_lot_** closer now than she had been moments ago, and Fen'Harel…Fen'Harel had been stalling him in the hopes that Sebastian would not escape her rage. Without warning, Sebastian released the pin holding up the chains, and Fen'Harel dropped like a stone. He did not get up, and Sebastian ran now that Hawke's attentions were called away to Fen'Harel once again.

* * *

 

That _rat_ **_bastard_ _!_**   Hawke raged, seeing him run. He wasn't what was important now, but damn it if she hadn't wanted to gut him. Before she'd even thought about what she was doing, she'd sent out streaks of light at him acting as needle thin blades, much in the same way Merrill's blood blades had done. They struck the prince at seemingly random locations, and though he slowed, he did not stop running. Cries of victory alerted her that they had won the day, but she was already running towards Solas.

He hadn't moved from the spot he'd fallen, and Hawke was afraid of what that meant. From the bruises that ran along her rib cage, she knew several of his were broken, but she didn't know just how severe his other injuries were. Could he heal quickly, the way she could, or was that something that was hindered by the large doses of magebane he'd been forced to take? His face looked like someone had used it as a personal punching bag, and was that…had Vael cracked his skull?! She could almost swear she saw his skull peaking out through a bit of flesh now.

Without even thinking about the possible consequences, Hawke sat down on her knees and tried to sit him up. His gasp in pain, and the way his eyes widened instantly, made Hawke panic. Instead of sitting up completely, Solas ended up slumped over, resting his head on one of her shoulders. His breath tickled her neck as she looked him over, only to realize she was right. A piece of Solas's skull was exposed to the air.

“His spine is intact.” Merrill said, her voice low, as she concentrated on the diagnostic spells. “Whatever Sebastian did to him, it doesn't seem to have damaged that. Either that, or his innate healing ability protected it.”

“ _Al-Alhasha_ …” Solas groaned, just barely loud enough for her to hear.

“How is he?” Anders asked, after rushing to them with a full medical kit, and looking him over. _**“…Shit.** _ There's so many broken bones here, I don't even want to think about it right now, and…Oh…Oh shit…Merrill, do you see it?”

“We'll have to heal it before we can move him.” Merrill stated, nodding her head in agreement.

“What's wrong?” Hawke asked, her breath becoming tight, now worried out of her mind.

“ _Al-Alhasha…Ir a-abel-las…Ar nu-nua n-na…_ ” He rasped.

**_Alhasha…I'm sorry…I hurt you…_ **

“One of his ribs is broken. Okay, well a lot of his ribs are broken, but one of them is angled a bit to where if he moves wrong it will pierce his lung.” Anders stated, his hand hovering over the specific spot, sending healing magic to it. “Given how close it is, I'm amazed it hasn't happened already.”

“ _Sa-sathan…lan-asta'em…_ ” Solas continued, between shallow breaths.

**_Please…forgive me…_ **

“Are there any other wounds that could kill him if he's moved?” Hawke asked, trying to remain logical as she internally panicked. Solas was trying to say his goodbyes, and she was _not_ prepared for that, so she ignored his words. “Internal bleeding? Poison? Hidden stab wounds?”

“Andraste's **_ass_ _!_** How much magebane did he **_give_** him?” Anders muttered, as he and Merrill tried to heal Solas. “We'll need lyrium to burn it out of him before we can even think about trying to set that. Merrill has almost no energy left, and I can't say I do either.”

“ _N-na an-ane…ar-ara vhe-vhen'an…bre…nu-nuven-ven'in…_ ” Solas rasped, each breath more difficult than the last. Damn it, it was getting harder to ignore him, and she was so close to tears already.

**_You are…my hearts…deepest…wish…_ **

Hawke wasn't really focused on them, the man in her arms being her main concern. When she closed her eyes, she could see the broken bones, the bruised organs, the stab wounds, everything. It was too much, it was just too much. There was so much pain, so many wounds. How had he survived this?

“He is trying to say his goodbyes. You don't have to let him. You can heal his hurt.” Cole said, suddenly there and crouching in front of her. “Try.”

“I don't know how! I can't!” Hawke cried, as pain spreading through her lungs.

“You **_can_ _._ ”** Cole insisted. “You went to him when I could not. **_You_** did that. **_How_?”**

“I…I just needed him to be safe…I didn't think about it…I don't know how…I just went…” Hawke insisted, searching for whatever connection she knew had to be there.

“There. You said it. That's it.” Cole encouraged, and she didn't understand.

“But I don't understand. I just said I needed him to be safe. I didn't do anything, I just…” Hawke whispered, shaking her head. She closed her eyes again, rested her lips against Solas's forehead, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “I just needed him to be safe…I need him to live…to be well…to be whole…I need him to… _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara'em, sathan, Fen'Harel…_ ”

 


	29. After the fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In her grief, Hawke has said words she hadn't meant to say, not even aware that she's said them, and now more than one person is put into a tight spot. Iron Bull has to figure out how to handle the situation, and Aveline realizes there is a grain of truth to Sebastian's crazed ramblings. Whatever else has happened, this is someone Hawke cares about, and Aveline resolves to take his measure, judge whether he is worthy of her friend. She will not make the same mistake again.

Last time...

 Hawke wasn't really focused on them, the man in her arms being her main concern. When she closed her eyes, she could see the broken bones, the bruised organs, the stab wounds, everything. It was too much, it was just too much. There was so much pain, so many wounds. How had he survived this?

"He is trying to say his goodbyes. You don't have to let him. You can heal his hurt." Cole said, suddenly there and crouching in front of her. "Try."

"I don't know how! I can't!" Hawke cried, as pain spreading through her lungs.

"You  ** _can_ _._ "** Cole insisted. "You went to him when I could not.  ** _You_**  did that.  ** _How_?"**

"I…I just needed him to be safe…I didn't think about it…I don't know how…I just went…" Hawke insisted, searching for whatever connection she knew had to be there.

"There. You said it. That's it." Cole encouraged, and she didn't understand.

"But I don't understand. I just said I needed him to be safe. I didn't do anything, I just…" Hawke whispered, shaking her head. She closed her eyes again, rested her lips against Solas's forehead, unable to hold back the tears any longer. "I just needed him to be safe…I need him to live…to be well…to be whole…I need him to… _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara'em, sathan, Fen'Harel…_ "

* * *

 

Chapter 29

 

Those that were closest to her were the only ones to hear her say that, but that she would say it out-loud where they were showed how far gone into her worry she was. They watched as she gently rocked back and forth, crying as she held Solas. A soft glow surrounded the two of them, but it's not enough to blind anyone, and it's almost as if Hawke doesn't notice it's even happening. Anders made to try and bring her back to herself, but Cole stopped him. This was not something he should interfere in, and Anders sat back as she continued rocking with Solas in her arms, repeating the same words over and over again.

“ _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara'em, sathan._ ”

After a while, Hawke stops, and Cole catches her before she can fall backwards. She has passed out, still holding onto Solas. New wounds show up on her, but they are shallow, and Solas's wounds are nearly healed. Cole nodded to him, and Anders took this as a sign to begin checking them both over. The Magebane was gone, Anders noticed, and the two shared wounds much lighter than they had been before.

“Shit. She actually said it.” The qunari groaned, having been standing just close enough to hear her. “Shit. Damn. Fuck. I was hoping to avoid this.”

“Would you **_really_** do that?” Fenris growled, in outrage. “You would throw him, throw **_her,_** to the _**Qun?** _ You **_know_** what they would do to her, to them both!”

“They find out I know and didn't say anything, I'm **_dead.”_** The qunari hissed.

“You throw them to the Qun, they're **_both_** dead, or worse, and The Qun raises an army against the rest of Thedas.” Fenris shot back, trying to keep his voice down. Aveline was getting closer. “She barely made it through defending a city, Bull, I will not have you put that on her shoulders too.”

“We have to get them to the Hawke estate.” Anders stated, cutting through their argument. “Now that whatever **_that_** was happened, they're both stable enough to move. You can deal with anything else after that.”

Bull nodded in understanding, and makes to gently pick up Solas, or tried. It seems even in sleep like this, Hawke refuses to let Solas go, and Cole has to help. The boy whispers something into her ear, while holding onto her hand. They watch as in sleep Hawke relinquishes her hold on Solas. Bull is able to pick Solas up then, and began to carry the elf off of the battlefield.

Fenris gathered up Hawke, now that she wasn't clinging to Solas, and followed Bull. Anders looked around at it all, as they made their way back to the Hawke estate. All his plans, though he wondered if they had really been his plans to begin with, had all been for nothing. Hawke was still cleaning up his mess throughout Thedas, and Aveline was still dealing with the fallout of his decisions here in Kirkwall. The mages were free, yes, but he hadn't expected the price for it to be this high.

* * *

 

Moments before…

 

The look on Hawke's face when she saw that elven man hanging as he was across the battlefield, Aveline had hoped to never see such a look on her friend's face. Whoever that man was, Hawke cared for him deeply. If Hawke had any goodwill or mercy towards Sebastian, this was where it ended. The woman was halfway across the battlefield before Aveline could follow her, not that she could have. Aveline had the city to protect, but she would not begrudge Hawke going straight for the one she loved.

By the time the battle was over, she'd lost sight of her friend. When Aveline found her again, she almost wished she hadn't. It reminded her too much of losing Wesley, tears streaming down her friend's face as the man tried to say his goodbyes. She could hear the others talking, trying to come up with ways to help him, but things kept piling up. The worst part was watching Hawke break down, crying that she needed him to be safe, to be well, to be…

“… _Vevar'i'em. Sal vun'in. Sal era'vun. Tel'vara'em, sathan, Fen'Harel…_ ”

She didn't know what the rest of that meant, but she recognized one word out of all of that. Even being a devout Andrastian, Aveline knew who Fen'Harel was. That man was _Fen'harel?_ How could that be? How could a man like that capture the heart of her friend?

Had Sebastian been right all along about this? Hawke was the most loyal person she knew, but if she had been brainwashed…Aveline shook her head clear of that nonsense. Even if this man were Fen'harel, the way Hawke cried over him, the way the others debated on how to save him, these were the things that mattered. They weren't being controlled now, if they ever had been; Hawke hadn't been controlled when she'd gingerly held that wolf bone necklace.

Sebastian had taken this man, had tortured him, and had strung him up as bait to lure Hawke in, **_that_** was what mattered now. If this man was Fen'Harel, then maybe, just maybe, he had a better chance of living than she thought. Hawke kept repeating that phrase, and magic surrounded the pair. Did she not know that she was doing this? So lost in her grief, Hawke didn't see that she was saving her love.

It was the most stunning thing Aveline had ever witnessed, seeing the magic flow around them like a comforting embrace. There are so few truths in this world, that when you see one, you just know it. Aveline had the strangest sense that she'd just witnessed one of those rare truths, seeing Hawke surrounded by magic while holding that man. When the magic vanished, and Hawke fell back into that boy, Aveline could only wonder what she had just seen. She waited till Fenris and that qunari Iron Bull were on their way off the field before she walked up to the others, giving the illusion that she hadn't heard what Hawke had said, or what those two had been fighting about.

“She was going to come here alone, Aveline. We had to sneak on board the ship, and hope she didn't notice till we were too far to turn back.” Anders said, with a tired sigh, as the rest of them began to leave the field as well, seeing her stare at him.

“That sounds like Hawke.” Aveline admitted, deciding to follow them to Hawke's estate. “I've not heard word of her since we had to scatter to the four winds, and I came back here. Can you tell me anything? We both know how she is about secrets, and I'm not sure what's safe for me to know.”

“You heard her.” Anders stated, not a question. Hesitantly, Aveline nodded. “Aveline, this is something you can't repeat to anyone. It's probably not even safe to discuss it with me here, even as quietly as we are. I'm not sure she even knows she **_said_** it. I don't think I've ever seen Hawke like that.”

She nodded in understanding. Something like this was dangerous to know, either from them or the people who were after them, she wasn't sure. Hawke would have to get herself involved with the most dangerous man in all of Thedas. Then again, Sebastian had caught and tortured him, so how dangerous could he really be? To be fair, it wouldn't be the first time a dangerous person had been caught in a vulnerable position like that.

Who he was, or had been, no longer mattered at the moment. What mattered was that she had seen that Hawke cared for this man, and that had instantly caused her motherly protective instincts into overdrive. Aveline felt that this man cared for her friend, though the extent of it was yet unknown to her. As any good friend would, Aveline reserved the right to interrogate this man, mainly because she felt so motherly protective of Hawke, in order to judge for herself the kind of man this was. Hawke was willing to go above and beyond for the ones she loved, she deserved someone who would do no less for her.

Aveline was certainly in for a shock when she entered the now affectionately named Hawke estate. Elves from the alienage were moving things, organizing, preparing for Maker knew what. It was overwhelming for a moment. Fenris and that Iron Bull fellow argued in hushed tones in one of the side rooms, but she couldn't make heads or tales of it, and she had more pressing matters on her mind at the moment. Merrill was coordinating with some of the elves, arranging sleeping quarters, and discussing the various supplies that were there.

“Merrill, what is all this?” Aveline asked, as she looked around, when she'd walked into the room Merrill had been using for her coordination efforts. Anders went beyond her to the master bedroom, probably to help with the healing of those two.

“Hawke gave me permission to use the estate for the elves of the alienage. Something about there being enough room even if she were to move back in here with that Solas fellow she's with now.” Merrill replied, happily. “With things being what they are, she wanted me to be able to lead them out of the city if need be, or to be better able to protect them here. You know Hawke.”

“Maybe not as well as I thought, if what I heard is true.” Aveline stated. “That man that Sebastian took hostage, just who is he?”

“Whoever he is, whatever his name is, he is the man who **_loves_** her, Aveline.” Merrill stated, making Aveline wonder just what else she didn't know about Hawke's life, before sighing. “If you really want to, I'm sure you can discuss it with them once they are awake. Until then, there are more pressing matters.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Aveline asked, not wanting to leave before she's had the chance to talk with Hawke and that man.

“If it isn't too much trouble, could you deal with Bran?” Merrill asked, pointing back towards the front door, where Seneschal Bran was causing a ruckus.

“What is the meaning of this?! What are all these…people, doing in a noblewoman's estate? This is not at all proper. Where is-” Seneschal Bran ranted, stopping only when he saw Aveline. “Guard Captain Aveline, as acting Viscount it is your duty to see that this riffraff is removed from the premises immediately.”

“On what grounds?” Aveline countered, already annoyed with the man. “Hawke invited them here. This is her estate, and she can do whatever she wants with it.”

“Lady Hawke hasn't been here since the incident which nearly destroyed the city. I'm sure there's back taxes that she owes, which means that she can't do whatev-” Bran stated, not giving up, but Aveline interrupted him.

“Hawke's taxes are up to date, and you know it. They've been set up on an automatic payment schedule that she does not have to be here to maintain.” Aveline argued, not giving him an inch. “You will go back to the Keep, and help with coordinating relief efforts from there. Your job is to help me help the people, not police their choices. Now, out!”

Bran looked about as thrilled as a wet cat, but left to do as she'd ordered. Aveline just shook her head, and sat out of the way of those moving about the estate. Anders had disappeared, but she knew where he'd be now, helping to heal Hawke as he could. Even Merrill had gone to go check on her now that Bran was gone. She could only assume someone, most likely Sebastian, had been stealing her post for her to have gone so long without hearing anything of Hawke.

When everyone was asleep, she made her way to Hawke's room, knowing that that's where they'd be. She opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone yet, only to find Hawke fully wrapped up in the arms of that man. To be fair though, Hawke also had her arms wrapped around him in a protective embrace, his head resting against her neck and shoulder. She stood transfixed by the image for some time before silently making her way out of the room.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to go in there.” A dark haired man with a tevene accent remarked as soon as she was clear of the door.

“You were with Varric before. Your name?” Aveline replied, respectfully, subtly hiding the fact that he had nearly given her a heart attack.

“Ah. My name is Dorian, of house Pavus, at your service.” Dorian said, bowing to her slightly. “Yes, I am a mage, no I am not a magister. Glad we could get that out of the way really.”

“Aveline, of the house Vallen.” She responded.

“You lost me 8 sovereigns, you know.” Dorian continued, sipping on a glass of wine. “I bet you'd have given in to sneak in there ages ago.”

“Sorry for the restraint.” Aveline scoffed, with a note of sarcasm.

“She helps, but she's hurt. All this time with no word, and now she doesn't need me. I hope I did enough.” The boy in the big purple hat, Cole, said as he appeared next to Aveline. “She **_has_** missed you.”

“You look after her then?” She asked, Cole, unnerved by how the boy could just appear like that. He nodded, and she looked to Dorian. “You too?”

“As much as she lets us.” Dorian replied, with a cheeky grin. “That girl may be willful to a fault, but we've grown rather protective of her. I take it you are the mother figure she looks up to? You remind me of her, very straightforward.”

“We're Fereldan. It's what we do.” Aveline stated, crossing her arms in front of her. “What can you tell me about them? I'm not asking for secrets. I'm asking for observations.”

“I thought you might. Thanks for winning me some of my money back at least.” Dorian replied, with that same grin, before continuing. “Anders said you heard, and as he did, I will caution you to keep that to yourself for now, unless talking with them directly. Not everyone knows, and it is dangerous knowledge to begin with. Understand?”

“I wasn't asking about that.” Aveline stated, but decided to ease his worry. “I've been friends with Hawke for a long time. You get used to secrets you can't share…or shouldn't know.”

“Good.” Dorian nodded, then gestured for her to sit with him at the corner table. “He loves her, you know. I know you're going to do your own questioning of him, but he **_does_** love her. They're both just as clueless as each other sometimes, stubborn too. He's her match in every way, her True Kindred Soulmate.”

“She cast the spell?” Aveline asked, in surprise.

“No, he did.” Dorian explained, in a more quiet tone. “He explained it to me once. Through circumstances not of his choosing, he was forced to cast the spell. So he listed impossible things, secret wishes, hopes he shared with no one, traits no **_one_** woman should be able to possess, because he didn't want to find someone, not then, and didn't think he deserved anyone. He found her, years later, in a cell where she was more than likely set up for Vael to collect. He stubbornly resisted her for months, right up until just before Haven fell.”

Aveline still wasn't convinced, though she had to admit it sounded romantic.

“She knows.” Dorian explained, before she could voice her objections. “Before you start, she knows. Every dark secret he has, how dangerous he is, who he is, everything. She knows **_everything_ ,** Aveline. They have been through much already, protected each other without hesitation, sometimes through sheer instinct alone. You are not the first friend to voice such objections, or think them, in your case; but I have watched this unfold, and I am telling you, no one will love her as much as Solas does.”

“Solas?” She asked, not having heard the name before.

“His name, his actual name, at any rate.” Dorian replied.

“It was an insult, the title he was given. He took it, and made them fear him for it.” Cole stated, as though he were explaining. “She is his Lath'in, his place where love lives. Cautious and humble, tall and proud. The moment he saw her, it was too late. He was caught before he knew.”

“I understand…I think.” Aveline said, and the boy smiled before disappearing again. She looks to Dorian, who looks more than a little amused at what just happened. “I think I will stay. I still want to have a word with him myself, if you don't mind.”

“How very Fereldan of you, my dear.” Dorian said, with that sly smile of his.

* * *

 

He hurt, everywhere hurt, but he was alive. How was he alive? The last thing he remembered was trying to tell Alhasha he was sorry, the tears that streamed down her face as she tried to ignore his words. She saved him, she must have, though how he doesn't know. He isn't even sure where he is, and Vael had not answered him when he'd asked.

It is early morning, wherever he is, he can see the sun peaking through the window to his left. Red covers surround him, arms hold him close, and…Alhasha! He moves to put his arms around her, and discovers they already were. She went against everything he wanted for her, and it ate at him that he had caused her pain yet again. For a moment he simply breathed her in, almost unsure that this was the waking world.

She looked like she'd gone through the Void and back, and yet was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He could practically see the worry etched into her face as she held him. Her ink black hair looks all the more wild for all the bed head she's sporting, something that makes him smile at the sight of it. Since taking off that bracelet, her hair had rebelled into gloriously voluminous waves he still could not resist running his fingers through. There are patchwork bandages all over her, and him as well he realizes, and understanding dawns on him. She had taken his pain into herself, as he had done for her, and now he understood her guilt…he had hurt her…again…

“ _Lath'in…_ ” His voice barely above a whisper, rasping as he called out to her.

She did not wake, but then he was not sure if she would for a while. Whatever she had done exactly had taken a lot of energy from her, that he could easily tell from the link they shared. After a moment, he tore his gaze from her, and slowly made to get out of the bed. Even in sleep, she did not want to let go of him, and he found himself humming a soft tune, something he never did, in order to get her to relax enough to release her grip on him. The necessary was not hard to find, though he did stumble a lot on his way.

Looking into the mirror in the bathroom had most definitely been a mistake. Was that what he looked like right now? With Alhasha having taken some of the pain into herself, he could only imagine what the injuries had looked like before. Shit, she **_was_** going to kill him. She'd seen how injured he had been before, how much he had hidden from her.

There was a bandage across a large portion of the left side of his head, right where Vael had cracked him. His ribs were wrapped, but it felt like there was some kind of medicine in it, something to sooth the pain of his ribs, he imagined. Parts of him looked like that's all there was to him, his shoulders and ribs especially, but his legs were not too far off. His knees in particular had been bandaged to the point where he could barely bend them.

Splashing a bit of water on his face, though helpful in waking him up, was not enough to quench his dry throat. He still wasn't sure just where he was, and resolved to wander the house, though that proved to be much more difficult than he had anticipated. As soon as he left the room, he tripped over Dorian's buckled shoes, though somehow not waking him up. He would have fallen down the stairs, had he not managed to grab onto the railing before his legs tried to give out. Oh, and he almost face planted into the wall before finding his way into what must be the kitchen.

His legs gave out on him several times throughout the journey, him barely able to grab something in time to keep himself standing, not use to their own weight anymore. He would heal quickly, he always did, but in the mean time it would be a struggle to keep going. His arms ached, his shoulders and wrists having carried the bulk of his weight for the bulk of the time he'd been gone. Still, throughout his blundering attempts to find water, he had not woken anyone up. It did not feel possible that he had managed to stay so quiet while also managing to nearly hit everything on his way through.

After he made it into the kitchen, it was only a matter of time before he found the glasses, but the grip in his hands was nearly gone. It made picking up a glass difficult, and he was afraid to break one and wake those in the place. He'd made it all the way down here, only to be thwarted by the damned dishes. Whoever this Maker was certainly had a skewed sense of humour, if he existed at all.

“ _Delavir liman'edhialun._ ” Solas grumbled, cursing at the object.

**_Stupid water glass_ **

“Here, let me get that for you.” Came a voice unfamiliar to him, a woman, startling him into nearly knocking over a glass. Red hair, guard uniform, steely gaze. **_Etunash!_**

“ _Ma serannas_.” Solas rasped, rubbing at his throat, before sitting down at a long table. “You must be Guard Captain Aveline.”

“I am.” The woman stated, sternly, before handing him the glass of water, before sitting down across from him. “You and I need to talk.”

“I really don't see how we do.” Solas stated, rasping, before taking a drink of water.

“ _Fen'Harel._ ” She countered, surprising him. Then, before he could ask. “I heard her say it when she was trying to heal you. I think I am owed an explanation.”

Solas took a deep breath, and another sip of water, as he tried to process this with everything else that was going on in his mind at the moment. From the stories Alhasha shared, he knew that this woman was one she respected. Even so, she had not shared the secret of her bracelet to this woman, probably because she would have frowned upon just about everything Alhasha had had to do. That dogged stubbornness certainly seemed to be a very Fereldan trait, at any rate. The way she looked at him now, he knew this woman wanted to take his measure, to see if she found him worthy of her friend.

“Everyone thinks they are **_owed_** something.” Solas scoffed, the rasp taking some of the effect away. “You are not the first…What makes you think…I owe **_you_** anything.”

“Hawke is the oldest friend I have.” Aveline stated, catching his attention. “We have helped each other through our losses, shared each others joys, but the look I saw in her eyes yesterday is one I had hoped we would never share. She cried as she held you in her arms, devastated when she thought she'd lost you. Vael took you hostage to lure Hawke here, and laid siege to **_my_** city. I knew Vael was an indecisive little shit, but I had no idea that he had fixated on her so strongly. I will not make the same mistake again. You **_will_** answer.”

“No.” Solas replied, hiding a smirk as rage rippled across her face. “You aren't use to hearing that word, I take it?…  ** _Get_** use to it…As long as you think you can bully me for answers,…that's all you'll _**ever**_ get…You have _**no**_ idea…just how strongly he is fixated on her…even now…and you think to judge me.”

“Now see here!” Aveline scowled.

 _ **“No!”**_ Solas shouted, though croaked is probably the more appropriate term, as he slammed his fist onto the table. She stopped short, either seeing his anger, or inability to speak well as reason enough. He **_was_** having difficulty breathing again, and began speaking more quietly. “I have had…my privacy _**invaded**_ …by master Tethras,…been **_interrogated_** by Fenris,… ** _poisoned_** by Isabela,… ** _warned_** by Anders,…and **_tortured_** by _**Vael**_ ……There is an entire… _ **Inquisition**_ …that would do anything for her…all of whom…have warned me in some manner…against **_hurting_** that woman,…and that…is just among the _**living**_ …Her mother…calls me **' _young_** man',…and asks after her daughter's heart…Her father…  ** _laughs_** at me,…and gives advice,…Her brother…smarts off to me,…and her sister…Her sister won't even **_look_** at me…So tell me…what could _**you**_ …possibly add…to that?…”

He waited for a moment, but it seemed she had no answers to give him, and he was not going to wait around to be interrogated by this woman…not right now, at any rate. So he finished his water quickly, and left her sitting there. This woman actually thought to judge him! After everything he had just endured, what right did she have? Who did she think she was, bossy little upstart shem'len thought she could demand things of him? He was…

“Just how much do I not know about him?” Aveline asked, from behind him, when he had managed to reach the stairs. “Please,…Solas…I am only concerned for my friend. She has had to endure much, and I've not been able to help her with most of it. I don't even know what she's been through since she had to leave Kirkwall.”

“This is going to be a long conversation, Guard Captain.” Solas warned, halfway turning back to her. “Are you sure you want to hear it now?”

“I'm not going to be able to sleep till I do.” Aveline admitted.

Solas sighed, having hoped that he'd be able to make it back up the stairs. “It is best we return to the kitchen then…Some place to sit down would be nice,…and this is going to be a very… ** _long_** conversation.”

So, back to the kitchen they went.

“I almost wish I had my sketch books. This would be easier with those.” Solas remarked, and all of a sudden, Cole was standing there with his messenger bag, shocking Aveline. “Thank you, Cole. I thought these were back in Skyhold.”

“Dorian brought them, thought they might be needed.” Cole stated. “He helps like Little Bird and Sera, but more subtle, more like Varric.”

“Yes, he does.” Solas replied, and was not surprised when Cole disappeared again, though Aveline was. He handed Aveline the first sketchbook he worked on after meeting Alhasha, and the woman cautiously opened it. “When I first saw _Alhasha,_ she was in a cell…As best as we've been able to piece together since then,…she had been thrown in there by red templars…to wait for Vael…The mark on her ankle reacted,…and suddenly I was in the cell with her,…even though I was still asleep all the way in Haven.”

* * *

 

Aveline looked at the pictures Solas had drawn, from Varric's hiding spot all the way to the cell. This is what had happened to her right after Kirkwall. Isabela had not been able to stay with her like they had hoped, and Varric had gotten captured. Fenris had had to lure away enemies, and Hawke had gotten captured. She assumed Alhasha was something he called Hawke, though why she did not know.

“The mark reacted?” She asked, still looking at the picture. In it, Hawke wore nothing, crouched in a ball to hide herself, clutching at her ankle. “Her birthmark?”

“Not a birthmark.” Solas corrected, flipping the pages till he got to the detailed one of the mark he had shown Varric. “It is the mark of _Fen'Harel…_ It is **_my_** mark…It is, for all intents and purposes,…the physical manifestation…of the True Kindred Soul spell I cast in _Arlathan…_ It acts as a location beacon for when she is in grave danger,…whether aware of it or not…It is what allowed me to find her.”

“She's been in danger before that.” Aveline countered. “If this is what it does, where were you then?”

“ _Uth'then'era.”_ Solas replied, understanding her frustration. “I was in a deep sleep for many years…What I did took much from me,…more than I even realized when I woke up,…and so I could not go to her till then…Besides, would she be the strong powerful independent woman you know…if she had someone to rescue her all the time?…Such constant interventions would have hindered her,…rather than help her grow…On top of that, how appropriate do you think it would have been…for someone as old as I am to be involved with one so young?”

“Isn't that still a question? Even if it wasn't Hawke, you would still be too old for anyone living.” Aveline countered, arching an eyebrow at him.

“It would be,…had things not progressed as they had…However, Hawke…as you call her,…was much too young then,…even by your standards.” Solas hinted. Aveline did not like that smug look on his face now. She imagined Hawke did not care for it either. “How old do you think _Alhasha_ was…when you met her, Guard Captain?”

“In her early twenties, maybe. Why?” Aveline asked, now knowing he was taunting her with information he knew but she did not.

“What if I were to tell you…that she'd hidden her age before you met her,…that she was but twelve…when you all landed in Kirkwall?” Solas asked. Before Aveline could deny that, for she clearly remembered a young adult Hawke, he added. “Her father designed a bracelet,…illusionary age progression magic,…because he knew she would have to lead the family…Age denotes respect and power,…and even at such a young age,… _Alhasha_ could see through situations with a clear eye…Think back,…and tell me there weren't instances when you wondered…”

Aveline thought back, but knew she couldn't do as he'd asked, because there had been many times she'd wondered at Hawke's maturity. Having this man round then, at that time, would have been more than repugnant. It didn't explain how things were okay now in that regard, or how he would deal with her death later. There were still so many questions, but if she asked them before the story was done, she might not understand anything. As it was, her mind was still reeling from what she'd just realized.

“The Arishok?…” Aveline managed.

“At sixteen.” Solas explained. “I saw the scar…I know how close she came to death.”

“How?…” Aveline asked, trying to work past the many emotions coursing through her. That she hid all that, that she'd had to do **_that_** much…

“I thought…if I kept her away long enough…if she learned to hate me…I would not have to face what finding her meant.” Solas explained. “I thought she had revealed who I was…to people who I was not prepared to have know when she had sworn not to tell at all…In my anger, I shoved her against a wall, not knowing there was a nail sticking out of it…It pierced her lung, and I discovered the scar as I worked to heal the damage I had done.”

The things he told her after that felt like something out of Varric's wild tales. Then again, this was Hawke, and these kinds of things just happened around her. Aveline was surprised that Sebastian was so adamant about his revenge against Hawke, having thought he would send assassins after Anders instead. There were moments when he seemed lost in thought, not sure how to proceed, but then he picked back up. She wanted to know what he hid in those moments, when there was a blush at a thought, but figured it was best she did not know that just yet.

When he mentioned the poisoned sweet buns, Aveline groaned. She knew how fond of those Hawke had been when in Kirkwall, and was correct in assuming that had not changed. That Sebastian had taken advantage of that, had used a private moment to ensure that Hawke didn't think twice about eating them, was despicable. How could they not have noticed that he had watched Hawke like that? What else hadn't they noticed?

Of course Hawke would put herself at risk for the sake of everyone else. That she had downed so many stamina shots like she'd been partying with Isabela on an empty stomach, alarmed her, but it did not surprise her. They were going to have a long talk about her alcohol tolerance too, now that Aveline thought about it. There was so much that had happened to her friend, and she could scarcely believe it, even with him being the one telling her instead of that annoying dwarf. Hearing that he had done much more than Anders had ever threatened to do for her friend, sent chills down her spine, and yet it was the most moving thing she had ever heard.

He'd had to make that decision, knowing everything he would lose, everything his people would lose. To keep her safe, to bring her back, he'd made it. He'd made himself forget her so that he wouldn't be at risk of destroying the future Hawke had told him they would share. As Aveline listened to all of this, she began to feel shame. She had presumed to know the will of this man, to judge that he was not good enough for her friend.

But he had instinctively protected her, even when he was trying to push her away. He had fought to bring her back to herself, even when she was pushing him away. This man had taken her pain, had rallied the others to try and keep Vael from her, and had gone after Vael with no magic at all when the man had gotten around his plans. He had endured torture by Vael, had tried to keep the pain of it from Hawke. Suddenly, he tilted his head to the side, before smiling.

“ _Lethal'lan_ , why are you hiding behind the door?” Solas asked, his voice sounding a bit less raspy now. Merrill sheepishly peaked her head into the room.

“It is getting to be morning, _Ha'hren._ You should be resting.” Merrill lightly chastised, before giving a bit of a yawn.

“I should.” Solas nodded, before turning back to Aveline. “I hope this helps you, Guard Captain,…but I really must be going… _Alhasha_ is not a morning person, and today…I don't plan to be either.”

* * *

 

“When this is over,…” Solas said, quietly, just loud enough for her to hear if she were awake, after he has slipped into bed again. “ _Melahn min air tol…ar'an'shor vara…telir si ta or va'an…sulo'mahn atisha…telir sul ei da'sahl…mahn na shor ea ladarem la ei venuralas'lan…ei tarlan…na shor nuven sul banal…_ ”

**_When this is over,…we'll go away…just the two of us…somewhere peaceful…just for a little while…where you will be treated like a goddess…a queen…you will want for nothing…_ **

“I see we've moved from bargaining to bribery…I must _really_ look like shit for you to be bribing me now.” She chuckled lightly, and there had been light to see by, she could have seen his face turn quite a bit pink at that. “I certainly feel like it.”

“So…how much trouble am I in, _Lath'in?”_ Solas asked, keeping his voice at the same quiet tone, putting his arm around her.

“So much, _Ara'nas_.” She replied, with a grin, snuggling into him. “You have no idea.”

“I suppose as long as it is not like the interrogation your guard captain friend gave me,…I will manage.” He replied, smiling into her hair as she snuggled into him.

* * *

 

“I take it all back. I think I'm in love with you, my dear.” Dorian declared, when Aveline stepped out of the kitchen. “You just won me all my money back and more. Oh, I'm going to **_love_** betting on you.”

“Shove off, Tevinter.” Aveline growled, as she made her way towards the door. “I got no sleep last night, and I still have to check in with everything going on today.”

“What?” Dorian asked, in mock shock. “You're not going to stay to ask **_Hawke_** all about him now? You know she'll tell you the embarrassing naughty bits if you ask.”

“I'm sure.” Aveline remarked, thinking back to how Hawke had 'helped' her get together with Donnic, blushing in embarrassment. “Is Hawke still…playing the wing man?”

“My favorite is when we got the ladies of the inquisition together and put the men on display for them.” Dorian replied, as he stood up to follow her. “It led to just about every other story where she 'helped' someone realize their feelings for another.”

“And you're coming with me because?…” Aveline asked, seeing the man's intentions to leave with her.

“There are so many stories.” Dorian replied with a cheeky grin. “Besides, I want to see just who it is that is worth metal marigolds, three sheaves of wheat, and a goat.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/10/18 
> 
> No new chapter this week, but there will be one next week. I have it typed up, I just can't get to a reliable internet this week.


	30. Recovery and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she said he was in trouble, he hadn't realized just what she'd meant by that. A wicked torment,he's not sure if he wants more trouble or less, but now he has to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Chapter 30

 

Merrill got a shock the next evening, when she saw Hawke hobbling around the library. The woman wasn't suppose to be out of bed yet. Quite frankly, she wasn't sure how either of them were moving about at all, considering the state in which they were brought in. This was Hawke though, and even when she'd been run through with the qunari great sword, Hawke had not stayed in bed for long. It seemed that Solas was no different, for when she got Hawke back to bed, he was also gone.

She left Hawke in her room with a pile of books on her nightstand, and went off in search of Solas. It was bad enough that she had let Aveline get away with interrogating the poor man. A god he might have been, but wounded was what he was now, and wounded needed rest. She found him in the kitchen, making a plate of meats and cheeses of all things, and two empty wine glasses between his fingers. After she managed to get him back, Hawke was missing **… _again_ ,** and she noticed a conspiratorially sheepish grin on Solas.

After making him promise to stay in the bedroom, she went off in search of Hawke again. This time, she found Hawke in the cellar. The woman had somehow managed to gather a bottle of wine, and a bottle opener, before being discovered. As she managed to get Hawke into the room, it dawned on her what the two had been trying to do. It didn't help that Solas was out of bed again, setting up everything.

“You know, this is all very sweet, but you could have just told me.” Merrill said, practically humming with how happy she was.

“Ah, but where would the fun have been in that, _Lethal'lan_?” Solas asked, his voice much stronger than it had been that morning.

* * *

 

**_Lemon Warning Thingy_ **

When Alhasha had said 'Wait till you get hurt', back when she'd gotten red lyrium poisoning, he hadn't thought much of it. Apparently she had been serious. He had felt a possessive and protective need of her, to touch her until he felt she was safe again, and should have realized it would be just the same for her. Every kiss felt hungry, every touch like she thought she'd never get to again. That part was his fault, he knew, a byproduct of him having tried to sever the bond they shared, and he felt guilt again for making her feel this way.

He found that he could not deny her, and soon the food was all but forgotten in favor of more pleasurable things. She took control easily, her magic a soothing comfort around him, and he smiled as she had him rest back in the bed. How gentle she was being had him groaning with pleasure already, his eyes closing as he tilted his head back, exposing his neck to her. That was something he knew she liked, and he could not deny that he loved it when she nibbled on his neck the way he usually did hers. Another groan slipped from him, as he felt her hand trail down his chest, though barely a thought was given as to when the shirt had been removed.

“ _Alhasha…”_ He moaned again, when the trail of her kisses followed the same path.

Only then did he realize his trousers and smalls had met the same fate as his shirt, shredded more than likely, but he had not felt her do so. He'd not felt her shred his jacket at the Winter Palace in Halam'shiral either. At this rate, he wasn't going to have any clothes to change back into. She was gentle in how she touched him, considering he was still wearing bandages in places, though not as many as that morning. It very much reminded him of how he would treat her after she was injured, which made him wonder later why he did not expect what happened next.

“ _Dirth, eil Ar dian._ ” She stated, her voice low and commanding.

**_Talk, and I stop_ **

**_That_**   was a tone he hadn't heard in a while. She didn't take command often, but when she did? **_Fuck._** He's never been sure where she gets all her ideas from, but he isn't about to question them now. It still made him dizzy that she was one who would take the control away from him. He imagined it always would.

“… _Oh_ …” The word was out before he could stop himself, and she stopped instantly, hovering over him. Oh, she was serious… _“Sathan…Alhasha, sathan…”_

“ _Fel'el shasol._ ” She warned, her tone speaking volumns, and he found himself nodding wordlessly.

**_Last warning_ **

She slowly began the trail of kisses along his torso and down, but at the same time she had already begun to slowly stroke him. His eyes were still closed, so he didn't see what she was doing, but he got the sense that that was what she wanted. He found that magic bound his arms to the bed, when he tried to reach out for her. It did not worry him, as it was not very constricting, just enough to let him know what she wanted. He could feel so many things at once, his mind only fleetingly wondering how she was doing it all, as he tried not to make a sound, his breathing shallow and fast.

She had said no talking, but he wasn't sure how far he could take to moaning before she stopped again. So, he bit his lip and tilted his head back more, and hoped he could remain somewhat silent. He felt her kissing along his neck again, and groaned with the pleasure of it, but then how could he still feel her kissing along his torso? Come to think of it, he felt her hands in more places than it was possible for them to be; tracing the shell of both his ears, one sculpting the muscles along his stomach, one stroking him, more caressing his arms, his thighs. He opened his eyes in shock when he felt her tongue lick along his balls, as well as his neck and chest, only to find Alhasha's face above his own grinning sheepishly at him.

She wasn't even touching him? As soon as he opened his eyes though, all the sensations stopped, and he **_really_**   wanted them to continue. Resolving to ask how she was doing these things later, he nodded and closed his eyes again. It did not start at the tempo he'd felt before he'd opened his eyes. He felt the slow tempo of when they first began…whatever **_this_**   was, and he groaned in frustration.

“You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?” Alhasha whispered into his ear, warning and amusement in her voice now. He tilted his head towards the sound. “I do remember telling you that you had no idea the trouble you were in, _Fen'Harel_.”

Oh, so _**this**_   was her plan then, he realized as his breath caught in his throat when the tempo picked up a little more. It was a wicked torment, he learned, one he thoroughly enjoyed. Whatever magic she used brought him to the brink time and time again, but just before he could finish, she would do something that caused him to open his eyes again, and then everything stopped before starting over again from the slow tempo of the beginning. He'd been denied so many times now, he **_ached_ ,** damn it _._ His breath catching more often than not now, his mind dizzy with a mixture of pleasure and a lack of oxygen. He wasn't sure he wanted more trouble or less if it meant getting punishment like this.

When he felt her taking him in, he gasped, unsure he could trust the feeling. He **_needed_**   this, but was this her or her magic? A part of him was too afraid to open his eyes to find out, afraid that the feeling would fade away again. Eventually, he risked opening his eyes anyway, to see her straddling him, and sighed with a mix of pleasure and relief as she slowly began to move with him. Finding that he could move his arms again, he gripped her hips, thrusting up in time with her.

“ _Alhasha_ , I… _Ar shor'tel rosa la'min…sathan…sathan…_ ” He pleaded, but she was content to continue her slow torturous pace.

**… _I will not last like this…please…please…_**

Taking matters into his own hands, he pulled her down to him just enough to where he could tease one of her nipples with his mouth, and she couldn't help herself. She rode him as fast as her hips would let her go, and with Solas holding onto her hips and thrusting up in time with them, it wasn't long till they were both lost in each other. His eyes closed again, felt the magic he had before, and was no longer able to muffle the sounds of pleasure she drew from him. This time, it matched the tempo they were in. The combination of sensations was enough to unmake him, and Solas came hard inside of her, the sensation of it enough to pull Alhasha along with him.

He held her to him as the two came down from the high they'd created. She shook, and he began to notice that his shoulder felt wet. She was crying into his neck! Had he hurt her somehow? He removed himself from within her, and held her close, not understanding what had happened or what he could do to make it right.

_**Lemon Warning Thingy End** _

“ _Alhasha, Ir abelas…Ir abelas…_ Please, _Lath'in, tel'numa_.” He whispered to her. “Tell me what is wrong, _Alhasha_.”

**_Alhasha, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…Love, don't cry_ **

“Seeing you like that…seeing what Vael did…You hid so much.” Alhasha said, softly, tears still flowing down her face and onto him. “You blocked me from coming to you again…you hid all that pain from me…and you tried to break the bond…”

“ _Lath'in_ , I was preparing to **_die._** I did not want you to feel that.” Solas tried to explain, but that only made her cry more.

“What's worse is that I would have done the same.” Alhasha whispered, surprising him. “But after that? Solas, you can't…you…you _**can't**_ …It hurt so much when you tried last time…I don't know if we would survive another attempt.”

That made him stop what ever he had been about to say. There **_had_**   been a searing pain when he'd tried to undo the spell. He'd put everything he had left into it, only end it after the blinding pain shot through him. In his attempt to save her, he'd possibly nearly killed them both. It wouldn't have saved her, he knew that now that he could think rationally, but he had thought that if the bond was gone then Vael would not obsess over her so completely.

“What stopped it?” Solas asked. “I felt the bond resist, but…there was more…”

“I guess I'm just too stubborn to let you go.” Alhasha admitted, with a watery smile.

Solas rolled them over so that he was slightly above her again, searching her eyes for something he did not fully understand yet. She had fought him, as Dorian said she would, when he'd tried to destroy the bond in a misguided attempt to protect her. Even as weak as he was, he should have been able to destroy it. He had not, however, known the consequence of succeeding. She had refused to let him go, and he'd nearly tried to kill her for it.

“ _Lath'in…Ar tel'paeraesi'na…el'mai o ara shor aelaes eolasa._ ” Solas stated, unsure of what she would say to this, saddened by the thought that he had nearly lost her without knowing it…again. “ _Ahnsul te na vevar i'em? Ahnsul te na tu'nuven em, my'ga Ar ema tol'sai'na?_ ”

**_Love…I do not deserve you…more so than I will ever know – Why do you stay with me? Why do you still want me, after all I have done to you?_ **

“Listen to me very carefully, Solas.” She demanded, as she reached up to caress his face. “You are _**mine.** **I**   _decide whether or not you deserve me, not **_you._** Besides, if I'd let you have your way, you'd still be that lonely soul I met in the cells, thinking you never deserved happiness again.”

“Does it not **_matter_** that I keep doing things like this? Hurting you with the choices I make? Nearly **_killing_** you several times over?” Solas asked, in disbelief, anger, and confusion. “ _Alhasha_ , it will not stop! **_This_** is who I am, what I do _._ I **_hurt_ ,** and **_destroy_ ,** and **_betray_ ,** and you would **_trust_** me after all that? You would want to **_stay_**   with me after **_everything_** I've done? I can't let you **_do_** this. I can't let you keep getting hurt because of me.”

“Tell me I haven't hurt you with mine.” She replied back, and he couldn't. She'd worried him more than he ever thought a person could, the pain of the red lyrium poisoning being something he never wanted to feel again. “You **_are_** mine, and I am **_yours_ ,** and you **_will_ _not_** try to **_break_** our bond again. You will **_not_** throw this away because you think you don't deserve it, and it would **_not_**   protect me, you **_know_**   this. You **_will_**   let me share in your pain, because **_that_**   is the **_only_**   way you will **_ever_**   get to share in my joy. When are you going to _get_ it? I **_love_** you, you great big bloody idiot. That doesn't just mean sunshine and daisies, you know. That means I will stand with you always, through **_anything_ _._** What would **_you_** have done if I had decided to try and destroy the bond to protect you? You'd **_fight_**   me. You'd show me **_I_   **was being the stubborn idiot, and you would try to make me see we are strong enough to share in each other's pain, that we are strong enough to endure anything.”

Resting his forehead against the crook of her neck, he sighed. She was just as stubborn as him, and she was right. Had she done this, he would have stopped at nothing to find her, to make her see reason. He would have done anything to make her see that what they had would be strong enough to survive what they endured, what they would come to endure. Solas backed away slightly, looking at her as he realized what he'd done.

He'd thought he was trying to protect her, but what message had that sent? Along with almost killing them both, his actions told her he had no faith in her or them, that he didn't feel they could win against Vael. This was quite possibly the strongest most stubborn woman he'd ever met, and his actions had told her he felt otherwise. He sighed, as he once again rested his forehead against her neck. What a fool he had been.

“Will you forgive me this, _Lath'in_?” He asked, not yet looking up at her. “I wished to protect you, but in trying to do so, I've conveyed that I did not believe you strong enough.”

“I already have.” She replied, kissing the top of his head.

“I am afraid I will always end up hurting you somehow, _Lath'in._ ” Solas sighed, wrapping an arm around her. Her arms encircled him, and he melted into the embrace.

“ _Ir gela ra na'ane sadaer i'em, Ara'manean._ ” She murmured to him. “ _Ir el'tas mael'len sai lasa'na'vara mala ra na ane emma_.”

**_I'm afraid that you're trapped/stuck with me, my fish. - I am much too selfish to let you go now that you are mine._ **

“I believe I have been suitably reprimanded, _Lath'in._ ” Solas hummed in contentment. “Is now a good time to mention all those words I planned on having with you from before?”

“You're cute, but you need to sleep, _Ara'nas._ ” Alhasha insisted, as she held him close. “I may have forgiven you, but I never said you were out of trouble just yet.”

“True enough, but you haven't said how you did…whatever that was…either.” Solas replied, practically burying his nose in her hair as he kissed along her neck. “What kind of magic **_was_** that? I have felt nothing like it in all my years, not till you, _Lath'in._ ”

“Shouldn't have told me that. Now I may **_never_**   tell you.” She replied, mischievously, and he could not help it as he smiled against her skin. “Magic that even _Fen'Harel_ doesn't know? That's powerful information to have, that.”

“ _Sulahn'ean._ ” He groaned, playfully, but he could feel sleep pulling at him even so. He drifted off to sleep, wondering what kind of punishment she had in mind when he woke up.

* * *

 

Some time later…

 

“I wouldn't go in there if I were you.” She heard, as she made her way to Hawke's room. They'd been in there the whole day, having apparently stocked up on food and wine according to Merrill.

Aveline turned to face the qunari she'd somehow overlooked, and asked. “Why not?”

“I believe she's…teaching him the error of his ways, if you catch my meaning.” Dorian supplied, with a grin. “We're just not sure how she's going about it. My money is on ignoring him while within arms reach. To hear him tell it, he can't go without hearing her voice for long.”

“That stupid theory again?” Iron Bull asked, scoffing at it. “It's sex, or magic, or both.”

“He can't stand going without hearing her voice. It physically _**hurt**_   him when we were searching for her last time, I'm telling you-” Dorian insisted, but stopped as at that moment faint pleasure filled moans filtered through the room. ( ** _Sathan, Lath'in, sathan…Ar isalan…Ar isalan…_** _)_ “I stand corrected, and I just lost all that money our dear Guard Captain won for me last night. Do be a dear, and win it back for me, won't you?”

_( **…Sastrahnen…Ar shor'te…sastrahnen…** ) _

“You could just stop betting.” Aveline replied, with a disapproving glare, trying hard to ignore the sounds of desire fueled begging.

_( **…ara vhen'an…bre nuven'in…ara vhen'an…** )_

“Losing money is both enjoyable and habit forming. You should try it sometime.” He quipped, with a good-natured grin. She just shook her head at him, and shooed the two from the room, trying not to blush as the sounds of Solas's pleasure filled begging still reached her ears.

_( **Vin, Lath'in…sastrahnen…sastrahnen…telir la ra…telir la ra…Alasha!** )_

They found Varric in the sitting area, telling stories of Hawke and Solas. That dwarf was in his element way too often, and she would love to meet the woman who could pull him out of it, if such a woman existed. Her thoughts must have been visible on her face, because Iron Bull started laughing. It caused Varric to look up, at any rate, and eyed them both with suspicion. Not letting it bother her, she sat down in an unoccupied chair as Dorian tossed the dwarf a bag of coin.

“Nice doing business with you, Sparkler.” Varric remarked, putting the coin away.

“I'm sure.” Dorian replied, dryly. “So, it would seem we need to catch up our dear Guard Captain on all the embarrassing stories on those two love birds. As it turns out, **_someone_** has been stealing her post.”

“She calls him _Ara'manean_ …my fish.” Iron Bull supplied, and Aveline actually snorted at that.

“Wait, you mean to tell me you haven't gotten **_any_**   of my letters?” Varric asked, looking at her in shock.

“I only found out about the age bracelet thing from Solas last night.” Aveline confirmed. “This one ( _she points to Dorian_ ) said he had stories, but all he wanted to do was to look at Donnic.”

“Three sheaves of wheat, and a goat, not to mention those metal marigolds. What did you expect?” Dorian declared, much to the others amusement. “The goat was for the side burns, I'm sure of it.”

“It's a Fereldan dowry tradition.” Aveline mumbled, blush dusting her cheeks.

“Daisy told me you interrogated Chuckles last night. I'd bet anything he left out the good stuff.” Varric stated, keeping things going. “Did he tell you about The hot spring incident? Or her depantsing him at DiamondBack?”

“Oh, what about the time you caught them at The Breach?” Dorian asked, chuckling. Varric covered his face with one of his hands.

“Why did you have to mention that, Sparkler?” Varric groaned, in embarrassment.

“Please, that isn't half as bad as when he barged in on them about to go at it after that whole deal with The Winter Palace.” Iron Bull remarked, and Aveline laughed at the sheer level of red Varric's face was sporting right now. “How did Cassandra take to you being tied spread eagle to her bed buck ass naked with a hat for your bits anyway?”

Varric's blush couldn't get any brighter as he replied. “She said I would have to court her properly before we talked about tying me to a bed.”

Dorian laughed so hard he started not being able to breathe. “Best…answer… ** _ever!_ ”**

“So…The hot spring incident?” Aveline asked, surprised at herself for trying to rescue the dwarf.

Cole appeared nearby, sitting on the top of one of the couches, and started talking. “Shouldn't be here, not like this, not when she's so exposed. She deserves better……Alone and injured, yet she teases like she knows. She can not know. **_How_**   does she know?……Her eyes so bright, lyrium makes them shine brighter. Black hair like ink running through my fingers, lips dark like blood, just one taste, and then I'll know……Honey and magic, fire in my blood, better than any drink I've ever tasted……What have I done? How can I ignore this? She is **_more_** _ **.**  _”

“Wow, Kid.” Varric whistled, as he wrote that down, before shaking his head. “Anyway, the thing is, Chuckles can do this out of body dreaming thing to get to where Flint is, only we didn't really know that at the time. He wakes up, suddenly dripping wet, steam everywhere, holding his face in shock. It was priceless, the first time I'd seen any real emotion from him.”

“I think the next incident would be being depantsed by her at DiamondBack.” Iron Bull said, after a thought.

“No, it isn't.” Cole remarked, with a secretive smile.

“That's right! I almost forgot about the snowball fight. Somehow, she tricked him into hitting Curly in the face with a snowball.” Varric remarked, thinking back. “My clothes were wet for a week. So what happened there?”

“A moment neither shared, a kiss behind the apothecary's.” Cole replied, leaning in as he's grinning. “Running through the snow, haven't felt this way in years. When was the last time I laughed like this?……She smiles up at me. Kiss or kill me, she'd said. Just one more taste…”

“This is great stuff, Kid! Keep it coming. Tell me about The incident at The Breach.” Varric insisted, enthusiastically writing everything down.

Cole looked thoughtful for a moment, before he said. “Magic dances across her skin. She stands where others fall……Cautious and humble. Tall and Proud. How can I love her already?……So many secrets, just like me. Why does she hide hers?……Wild and beautiful, and so much **_More_ _._** I want to know _**everything**_ ……Does this help, Varric?”

“It does.” Aveline answered, comforting the boy. Sheepishly, she asked. “What happened next?”

Cole brightened at this. “Varric is forever known as **_M_ _asa_.** ”

Iron Bull laughs outright, and tries to say. “She called him an ass.”

“They are wrapped up in each other, **_lost_**   in a world of their own making. The way they look at each other, like something out of the stories. Are there **_words_**  enough?……She is upset, and he is angry, but I have to ask. A bet is a bet, but she is my friend.” Cole stated, thoughtfully. “I can see why Varric likes this. I like telling stories. It helps.”

“Am I missing stories already?” Merrill asked, coming into the room with Fenris trailing behind her. Varric's eyebrows shot to his hairline, but he said nothing.

“Her eyes bright like Saheron, innocent and dangerous. The magic she wields makes me wary, but she is wiser than before. She is **_nothing_**   like him.” Cole said, in response, though it confused many.

“Oh! Thank you, Cole.” Merrill replied, smiling brightly, taking her seat on one of the couches. Fenris sits next to her, but fidgets, as if he is unsure of himself, occasionally glaring at Iron Bull.

“We're on stories Solas would not think to share to our dear Guard Captain.” Dorian remarked. “I believe we were just getting to The Winter Palace bits.”

Cole stiffened, looking thoughtful for a moment, and stated. “The Commander needs rescuing from the nobles, but the doors open and he is forgotten. _Sulahn'ean_ walks down, past and present are one as Pride walks to his _Lath'in……_ That dress, she kept it, but why? A dance from another time, interrupted by a fate worse than death, the moment he forgot her, and she _**remembered**_ ……Fear, panic, a dance and she is gone. He can not think it, he **_can't._** If Vael……(at this, Cole shudders)……Where is she?! Where **_is_**   she?! Please, let her be safe……Mercy given, but not deserved. Should have killed him, but it was not **_for_**   him……She is fire. Wild and willful, destructive and chaotic, warm and comforting, hopeful and inspiring. I will not lose her again…… _El'u'as av'ahn ara falon'en? Ra air tel'dhrua, Amelan rajelan Aveline_ …”

Both Merrill and Iron Bull start laughing as she explains. “He said 'Secretly questioning my friends? That is cheating, Guard Captain Aveline.”

“Why am **_I_   **the one getting blamed for this?” Aveline asked, her face now beet red.

“Gather information without asking questions. Why should I ask, when they are so willing to share?” Cole asked, as if he pulled the information from her mind. “He fights for her, cares for her, but what are his **_intentions_?** What **_else_**   don't I know?”

* * *

 

 _ **Sathan, Lath'in, sathan…Ar isalan…Ar isalan…** \- _ _Please, Love, please…I need…I need…_

 **…** _**Sastrahnen…Ar shor'te…sastrahnen…** -_ _…Anything…I will do…anything…_

 **…** _**ara vhen'an…bre nuven'in…ara vhen'an…** -_ _…my heart's deepest wish…my home…_

 _ **Vin, Lath'in…sastrahnen…sastrahnen…telir la ra…telir la ra…Alasha!** \- _ _Yes, Love…anything…anything…just like that…just like that…Alhasha!_

 ** _El'u'as av'ahn ara falon'en. Ra air tel'dhrua, Amelan rajelan Aveline_ …** \- _Secretly questioning my friends? That is cheating, Guard Captain Aveline_

* * *

 

She slowly woke up to the feeling of Solas drawing patterns on her stomach. His touch seemed thoughtful and worried, not like it usually was, and she wondered what could be on his mind now. After last night, and the day before, he had promised never to try and undo the bond again as it would interfere with the one promise he could not break. He would always find her, but he couldn't do that if they were both dead. Well, maybe he could, but neither of them wanted to test that out.

“I must apologize, _Alhasha_ , I……” Solas began, somehow sensing that she was awake. She rolled over to snuggle into him.

“What horrible thing am I to punish you for now?” She asked, her voice husky sounding as it clings to sleep, with a cheeky grin. “Or are you making up things to get punished for? I had no idea you'd like it **_that_**   much, Solas.”

“ _Alhasha_ …” He playfully scolds her, before his face turns serious. “I…I was not careful before,…where normally I had been with you… ** _We_** have not…been careful…over these last two days,…and I…”

“Solas, relax.” She said, with a sigh. Though watching him awkwardly trying to explain what had happened was amusing, she thought it best to ease his concerns. “I've been on a potion since the day I landed in Kirkwall. Mother thought something might happen, where I looked **_much_**   older than I was, and wanted me to be as safe as I could be. How long have you been worried about this?”

“Since I woke up over three hours ago.” Solas admitted, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “There is something else I can do, if you are willing, to ensure we did not…”

“Create a child. The words aren't that hard to say, Solas.” She teased, arching an eyebrow at him, and he nodded.

“I did not want to perform the spell without your consent. I was not even sure you would want me to check to see if there was a life there or not.” Solas admitted, and she smiled at the thought. Strange that such a knowledgeable man would be so awkward now.

“You could tell so early?” She asked, mildly surprised.

“Yes. Would you-?” He doesn't even get the full question out before she's nodding her consent to him. He places a hand flat on her stomach, and it glows blue for a moment. It is cold, and it makes her shiver, but she doesn't move. “You are not. Do you want me to perform the spell I spoke of before?”

She nods, and instantly cold turns to hot and uncomfortable. It hurts slightly, and staying still is difficult, but she manages. He must see the pain in her face, or feel it through the bond, and sends her an apologizing gaze as the spell takes effect. With everything that had happened, she'd not thought about this. She'd needed him, but Solas was thoughtful even in this, and she wasn't sure why she was surprised by it anymore.

“We should probably think about leaving this room at some point today.” Solas stated, once the spell was completed.

“Oh, I don't know. I think we could squeeze in one more day before Aveline looses her mind.” Hawke replied, as she began tracing the muscles of his torso. He was just as responsive to her as she was to him, and she loved it.

“ _Lath'in,_ last night she took advantage of Cole's desire to help others, by getting him to tell stories of our more intimate moments, with the help of Dorian and master Tethras.” Solas revealed, and Hawke couldn't help but start laughing at that.

“How devious of her.” She remarked, with an amused grin. “I'll have to tease her later.”

Solas actually snorted at that, and held her as they lay under the covers for a bit longer, though they did eventually get out of the bed to prepare for the day. She thought that when they left the comfort of her room, he'd go back to being his usually aloof self around the others, but her need to touch him seemed to outweigh that, and she didn't know what she was going to do about it. There was no need to worry, she should have known. Before she could make it to the door, he stopped her, spun her around, and pushed her against it. This kiss was not filled with urgency, but comfort and a need she didn't fully understand.

“You are worried.” He observed. She was going to deny it, but before she could, he continued. “I can feel it, how worried you are, _Alhasha._ ”

She looked down at the floor, unsure of how to even say what she was thinking.

“I did this, I know, and I can not undo it.” Solas stated, lifting her chin so she would meet his gaze. “It is perhaps a bit unfair that we can read each other's emotions in this way, but many wish for an ability such as this, and I will not waste it now. You are worried, yes, but there is also an intense longing I do not know how to yet explain. Tell me, what do you need?”

She couldn't answer him, didn't know how, and the words caught in her throat. She had never felt so unsure of herself. If she didn't know something, she faked it till she knew better. It's a strategy that had worked well for her over the years, but Hawke knew she couldn't do that this time, not with Solas. The man could read her as easily as she could read him, and he was staring at her with such intensity that it was overwhelming.

When he lowered his hand, she moved, quickly wrapping her arms around his waist before he could blink. This need to touch him, even if it was simply the entwining of fingers, was intense. She didn't know if he would understand, or even go along with it, but this was what she needed. He **_had_**   asked, after all. After a moment, he returned the gesture, burying his nose in her hair the way he usually did when he had her this close.

“I understand.” Solas said, into her hair. “You **_did_**   warn me, I think, that you would be just as possessive if I were to be hurt. It's not all of it, I know, but I understand. If this is what you need, then this is what you need. Just…don't squeeze so tight…My ribs still hurt, _Lath'in_.”

She nodded, caught between laughing and making sure she didn't cry. They were out the door without another word. However, when Solas got to where the shield with the Amell family crest on it was near the stairs, he stopped. Over the course of his sneaking about the house to escape Merrill, and his interrogation by Aveline, he must have seen it. A look of sadness crossed his face, and she realized what this was about.

“I found it under Biscuit's food bowl.” Hawke said, taking his hand and placing the ring in it. “One of the reasons I have always trusted the mabari at my side, is they seem to instinctively know what needs to be protected most. BarkSpawn always knew when to fight at my side, when to help me with you, even when I didn't. It is the same for Biscuit, but where he's so little still, he did what he could. I imagine he protected it for you, because had Vael been told it was on you……As far as I know, you and Varric are the only one's who know you even have it. I don't want to think about what all else would have happened to you, had Vael seen that.”

“I am going to owe a debt to Mabari for the rest of my days, I can tell.” Solas mused, as he placed the ring where it always should have been, on his ring finger instead of in his pocket where it had been before all of this. “Ironic, all things considering.”

“I was wondering when you would decide where that was supposed to go.” Hawke said, seeing just where he'd decided to wear it, a wolfish grin crossing her face.

“Was it your intention?” Solas asked, pulling her to him till his arms were around her, with that smug smirk of his.

“No, but it makes me happy all the same.” Hawke admitted, before stealing a small kiss.

“We are in your home.” Solas said, looking from her to the shield and back again. “I should have realized…How did I not notice before?”

“I'm rather distracting that way.” She teased, with that wolfish grin of hers. “I believe you've been rather **_occupied_**   these last two days.”

“I doubt I will ever get tired of seeing that smile, _Lath'in._ ” He admitted, before silencing her next reply with a kiss.

* * *

 

She saw it the moment they entered the room together, the look of absolute devotion on his face whenever he looked at Hawke. She'd seen a twisted version of it on Anders before he'd blown everything up. This look was different though, relaxed almost, as if she were the only one he could ever look at that way. When he reached up to caress Hawke's face, Aveline noticed something on his left hand that hadn't been there before, and that surprised her. The only person she knew that had the Amell crest in any form was Hawke and Fenris, and Fenris had his as a miniature version of the shield over the pocket for his healer's kit.

The way they **_were_** around each other, it was like they didn't even realize she was even in the room. To be fair, they probably didn't. She'd seen Hawke with that wolfish grin of hers, but it was odd to see it on him too. That man stalked Hawke like she was prey, but Hawke never acted like prey, choosing to stalk him as well. Aveline realized they really **_didn't_** realize she was there, when Solas lifted Hawke up onto the counter and began to kiss along her neck.

Immediately, Aveline's face went beet red as she tried to get her mouth to work. They could not be thinking of doing **_that_**   in here! She couldn't seem to get her voice to work, much to her chagrin, and continued to blush at what she was seeing. Solas had Hawke's right leg hiked up and wrapped around him at this point, kissing her as she tried to work him out of his shirt. His knees practically buckled when Hawke pushed him back just a little and began kissing along his neck as well as running the tips of her fingers over the shell of his ear, causing him to brace against the counter as a result.

“ _Ahn na te sai em, Sulahn'ean._ ” Solas groaned, as he went back to nibbling along Hawke's neck. “ _Ra'n tel'emaron._ ”

“ _Na eolasa na'la'ra_.” Hawke teased, as she basically pulled him even closer to him with the leg she had wrapped around him.

“ _Ir'mor mai_.” Solas replied, his lips barely a hairs breath from her own.

Aveline felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her head, her eyes are so wide. How had they not noticed her there yet? She should say something, but her voice seems to be broken at the moment, and she can't seem to make herself move. Solas let go of Hawke's leg, not that it went anywhere, in favor of slowly unbuttoning her shirt as he whispered things in her ear to make her shiver. Aveline felt very light headed, and was about to try and make another attempt at alerting them, when they suddenly stopped.

“We should probably stop now, _Ara'nas._ From the looks of things, Aveline might pass out from her brain overheating.” Hawke said, suddenly, her voice filled with mirth.

“Are you certain, _Lath'in_?” Solas asked, leaning back to smile at her. “I was sure I could get you out of at least your shirt before she passed out.”

“You two **_knew_**   I was here the whole time, and you did **_that_?!”** Aveline shrieked, more embarrassed than she'd ever been in her life, including the time Hawke had helped set her up with Donnic.

“There was a bet.” Hawke said, as if it made perfect sense. “Who won that, by the way? I already know I lost mine. I thought she would have passed out when he hoisted me up onto the counter.”

“Sparkler.” Varric said, walking into the room with the biggest grin on his face, mortifying Aveline further. “He's going to be ecstatic when I tell him he won all his money back too, as soon as I find him, anyway. He and Tiny disappeared after arguing with Broody. Daisy's trying to calm him down, and I am not going to ask when **_that_** happened.”

“Guess we know what mage was after his neck to nibble on.” Hawke mused, laughing about the whole thing. Solas hummed affirmatively into her neck as he pulled her from the counter and held her to him.

“Tease him later?” He asked, ignoring the others completely as he slowly spun her to where she could rest against him as he leaned against the counter.

“As if you have to ask. Of course, we're going to tease him later.” Hawke replied, with a cheeky grin.

“Why are they fighting?” Solas asked, looking to Varric.

“Iron Bull heard what she said as she was healing you.” Aveline replied, her face slowly returning to its normal colour. “He heard her call you Fen'Harel.”

“I did **_what_?”** Hawke asked, as the colour drained from her face as she looked to Aveline. She looked back to Solas in shock. “ _Ara'nas, ahn ane ar'an-_?”

“You can not **_blame_** yourself in this, _Alhasha._ ” Solas stated, surprising everyone in the room, holding her face to keep looking up at him with the crook of a finger. “In the state I was in, I had accepted death as inevitable. Being distraught as you were, it would make perfect sense for you to use a name you only say in private, to plea for the life you thought was lost, of one you love. **_No one_** can fault you for that.”

“But I-” Hawke began, but Solas put a finger to her lips.

 **“ _No._** Everyone who knows what I was has found out on their own, or through circumstance. This would simply be another one of those.” Solas stated, firmly. “Iron Bull must decide for himself what he chooses to do with the information he now can not say he doesn't have. It was a stretch for him to be able to do this much for me, or us, as it is. Whatever he decides, it is **_not_**   your fault, _Alhasha_. I will not let you blame yourself for this.”

“What's with you being so showy with your emotions here lately, Chuckles? You don't normally do that.” Varric observed, with a sly grin.

“Indeed, master Tethras.” Solas remarked, not letting Hawke out of his arms. “I find that near death experiences and prolonged absences will do that to a person.”

* * *

 

 _**Ahn na te sai em, Sulahn'ean –** _ **_Ra'n tel'emaron_**

_What you do to me, Songbird – It's not fair_

_**Na eolasa na'la'ra** - _ _You know you like it_

 _ **Ir'mor mai** - _ _Very much so_

 _ **Ara'nas, ahn ane ar'an** -_? - My soul, what are we-?

 


	31. Goodbyes and Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Solas well again, they plan to make for SkyHold. However their time there isn't done, and there are decisions to be made.
> 
> Kind of a filler chapter

Chapter 31

 

Aveline looked like she wanted to talk to her alone, but a part of Hawke did not want to let go of Solas just yet. Though she was loathed to admit it, a part of her was afraid that he would disappear if she wasn't touching him. He needed to talk to Fenris and Iron Bull on his own, and she knew that. She knew it would be a while yet before she relaxed enough to not worry like that. So, Aveline had talked her into a private conversation in the garden while he was busy, in the hopes that it would distract her.

Someone had been keeping the grounds clear and clean, Hawke noted. Since their arrival though, the grounds had begun to flourish. She didn't know if it was their combined magic on the place, or the elves from the alienage deciding to spruce it up a bit. It looked more alive than all her years of trying to liven it up on her own. Vibrant greens made the place shine when the sun hit it just right.

“Hawke…Why didn't you tell me?” Aveline asked, after she sat down in one of the wicker chairs, hurt.

“Technically, I did.” Hawke said, with a sly grin. “Once, you told me to stop acting like a child. I distinctly remember telling you that I wasn't **_acting.”_**

“That doesn't count.” Aveline insisted, looking like she was trying not to smile now. “Hawke, if I had known, I would have-”

“You would have treated me like a child, instead of the leader of my family.” Hawke stated, not unkindly. “You would have expected me to back down, to do what I was told, to let the adults handle it even when I knew better. Aveline, you would be doing exactly what you are right now, assuming you know better than me because you think you're older.”

“You **_were_**   a child!” Aveline insisted, indignantly. “You should have had a childhood, a time to be a kid, not killing bandits and qunari.”

“I **_should_** have had a lot, Aveline, but we don't always get to choose our lot in life.” Hawke said, with comfort. “Did you really see Carver leading us? I did manage to get a childhood, even here in Kirkwall. I played with the other children in the streets, even though they didn't know I was one of them and just thought I was the fun adult. Fenris let me stay at his place a lot, because he knew, and he knew I couldn't be a kid even in my own home. We would tell stories, and roast marshmallows, and all kinds of things, like a sleep over. I couldn't have a normal childhood, but I **_did_** have one.”

“You told Fenris, but not me?” Aveline asked, now even more hurt.

“Aveline, you're like my second mom, okay? What misbehaving little kid tells their mother when they're doing something bad?” Hawke asked, succeeding in shocking Aveline. “I needed to be an adult to lead my family, and then to lead our group of friends. Fenris was safe, because he was blunt, didn't get all hung up on what **_should_** be., and would call me out on my shit. He figured it out, so I told him. I couldn't tell you, because you would have treated me the way a mother does a kid, and I wouldn't have been able to do most of the things I did. You always gave sound advice, and I appreciate that more than you can know, but my being known as a kid would have been a hindrance in the long run. Not one of you would have let me face off against the Arishok if you knew.”

“Of course, we wouldn't have!” Aveline exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “You were **_sixteen!_**  I had to learn that from…from Solas! You should never have had to face off against an Arishok at such a young age.”

“Damn it, Aveline!” Hawke insisted, smacking her hand against her own wicker chair. “What should I have done? Admit that I'd deceived you all? Let Isabela go off with them? Let someone else fight him?”

“I just…” Aveline sighed, in defeat. “I'm sorry, Hawke. This has all been a bit of a shock for me. I can't help thinking there's more I could have done. You really think of me as a second mother?”

“Yes, you crazy woman.” Hawke said, laughing now. “Your voice is my conscience, you know.”

“That man…Solas…Would you mind telling me about him?” Aveline asked, looking a little worried.

“Trying to protect my virtue, Aveline? I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that.” Hawke commented, with a bit of a laugh. It was too easy to make her friend blush. “That man _**really**_ knows what he's doing.”

“It's just…How did **_that_** happen?” Aveline asked.

“Well, Aveline, when two people love each other very much-” Hawke teased.

“I know how **_that_** happens.” Aveline snapped, more than a little flustered.

“You walked into that one.” Hawke replied, with a grin.

“I suppose I did.” Aveline admitted, with a sigh, laughing a little. “Still though, Hawke, I…I have so many questions, even though Solas answered many of them before. If he's…really who you say he is…why are you not worried he'll betray you too? Didn't be betray the others of the supposed pantheon? How can you trust him?”

Though Hawke was sure this was one of the questions Aveline had asked Solas already, she told the story anyway. Aveline was nothing if not thorough when it came to her investigations, and this had the smell of one. Fen'Harel could have easily erected the Veil when it was completed, but he hadn't in the hopes that the others would change. Having to force her from his memory, and the destruction and enslavement of his people, forced his hand. Hawke viewed the destruction of Arlathan as partially her fault, because though Fen'Harel was the one that brought her to him, she was the one that decided to tell him of the future, thus giving him the option to do what he did to save her.

“How in all of Thedas does this stuff happen to you?” Aveline asked, with a huff. Hawke laughed even harder now. “I don't even really know what's happened to you since you've left, and now I discover you've traveled through time, and all kinds of things. What's next, flying on the back of a dragon?”

Hawke couldn't help but laugh, and began the long conversation of explaining this all to her friend. She went through things as she remembered them, from the cells all the way to ancient Arlathan. She went through her adventures when they got back, making her blush when she told her everything that had happened at the Winter Palace. Aveline laughed when Hawke explained that she'd fallen onto the back of a sleeping dragon. Hawke described what feeling Solas's pain had been like, how they could feel each other's emotions at times, everything.

“Hawke, just how old are you now?” Aveline asked, as she puzzled things over.

“Technically, I am both in my early twenties, and over eight thousand years old.” Hawke said, before biting her lip. “Though, I slept through most of that, so does it still count?”

Suddenly, Aveline got very sad. “I'm not going to see you again, am I?”

“What are you talking about, Aveline?” Hawke asked, in confusion. “Why wouldn't you?”

“You're not going to age, not like me. I don't want to grow resentful of you, and that's likely to happen as I get older and you don't.” Aveline explained, and it suddenly dawned on Hawk what she meant.

“I…I hadn't thought about that part.” Hawke said, as she was overcome with sadness. “I just…I followed my instincts…like always…I didn't think about what I would be losing. I wasn't trying to-”

“I know, Hawke.” Aveline said, with a slight smile and a sigh. “You have always followed your instincts, and you've always managed to find your way, but there will be some places where you must walk without us……Listen, if…if you feel we can do this…stay in touch…visit…without me making things worse…we can try……Besides, I have years of mothering to catch up on, young lady, starting with that man's intentions for my daughter.”

* * *

 

Solas knew the two women would be alright, though he could feel waves of nervousness and sometimes sadness coming from his nas'falon. He had different fish to fry at the moment, and he was surprised when he could not find them in the estate. Kirkwall looked like shit, it reminded him too much of the destruction of Arlathan. No wonder Alhasha had tried to fight Teventer back then. She hadn't wanted to see this happen to them.

The Hanged Man had been easy to find, though he had no idea what drew him to the place. There was a strange smell coming from the hovel across the street, almost like…like…cabbages? Without even realizing he'd done so, Solas had turned and headed towards that hovel. Something he'd read in that Tales of the Champion made him curious, and he found himself knocking on the door to the hovel. A grouchy looking sort of man opened the door, and upon seeing him, tried to close it again; Solas stopped the door from closing all the way by putting his foot in the way of the door.

“Look, I don't have any money for you.” The man groused. “Go away.”

“Are you Gamlen?” Solas asked, trying to sound peaceable. He could already see why this man tried Alhasha's patience every day. “I am not here for money. I am here because you are the uncle of my soon to be wife. You are Gamlen, are you not? She spoke of you.”

“She did, did she?” Gamlen asked, looking at him with suspicion. “If you're really her betrothed, tell me something that's not in that damned book.”

“She was the youngest of them, not the oldest, a rouse kept up by an age progression illusionary bracelet her father made.” Solas replied, without hesitation.

“You've not said her name yet.” Gamlen challenged.

“Neither have you.” Solas stated, not backing down. Something passed between the two men, and Gamlen stepped aside to let him in.

“Come in if you're going to.” Gamlen said, holding the door open. “I imagine there's a lot to talk about, you and I.”

“Indeed.” Solas said with a nod, unwilling to admit that he'd been struck to come here on a whim, and walked into the hovel.

* * *

 

Gamlen eyed the elven man with suspicion. This one was not like any of the other elves he saw walking around Kirkwall. Many of those had a slight hunch, a look of humbled servitude in their eyes, this one did not. The tall elf walked with excellent posture and pride, and yet there was a humbleness about him. The elven man's eyes were much more narrow than most elves Gamlen saw walking about, as if constantly studying what was around him.

The elven man dressed simply enough, but Gamlen knew enough to see that the clothes were well made. The jaw bone necklace thing threw him off, though. He had no facial tattoo's, so not one of the dalish, but he did not have the feel of a city elf either. If Gamlen didn't know better, with the way this man stood, how he moved, it would be easy to take this man for nobility. He seemed…very out of place here.

“Why do you not live in the estate?” The tall elven man asked, curiously, as he sat in one of the chairs by the small table Gamlen had. “I know that _Alhasha_ suggested it to you. She would not have offered if she had not wished it.”

“Learned that early, did you?” Gamlen huffed. The man simply arched an eyebrow at him. “It just didn't feel right without Leandra there. Anyway, you know my name, I have yet to learn yours, or why you're here. No offense.”

“ _Ir abelas_. I am called Solas.” The elven man, now Solas, stated. “I thought maybe you would like to visit her, since she is in the city. She would have come herself, I am sure, but the Guard Captain requested her time. The fight against Vael has not been an easy one.”

“Can't say I ever really liked him.” Gamlen scoffed, then seeing Solas's face, he remarked. “I take it you don't either.”

“That **_boy_**   threw away the only mercy I was ever willing to grant him, too obsessed with _Alhasha_ to leave her alone.” Solas stated, angrily, his eyes glowing before he turned his head away as he closed them. “ _Ir abelas_ , I…I should not have let my anger get the better of me.”

“Why so angry at the Starkhaven brat anyway?” Gamlen asked, not wanting to say anything about the eyes just yet. It seemed that Solas hadn't yet realized they were doing that. “What did he do, insult her honour or something? If that's all, I'm afraid you're in for a long line of people to be angry at.”

“You don't know. What with Vael making sure no post from her got to anyone in Kirkwall, there was no way for you to know.” Solas said, getting angry again. Gamlen thinks he should be afraid of this man, but Solas is angry in the defense of Hawke and not himself. “My _nas'falon_ has had much happen to her since leaving this place. She has been held hostage in the Exhalted Plains, poisoned with food in Haven, poisoned with red lyrium in the Frostback Basin, and drugged and abducted in _Halam'shiral._ All were the results of attempts on her life made by _that_ **_boy._** Angry does not quite cover the level of disdain I have for that sorry excuse of a _shem'len_.”

“You going to calm down now? I don't think my dishes can take it if you shatter them like that.” Gamlen said, and it was only then that Solas seemed to realize he was projecting as he was. “No need for all that apologizing you're getting ready to do. If anything were to happen to Charade, or her mother when she was alive, angry wouldn't cover it for me either.”

“I am sure she would like a visit from you. We do not know when we will be in Kirkwall again, and the Inquisition may have need of us for longer than we can guess.” Solas stated, getting up to leave. “ _Enaste sul nar arla,_ Serrah.”

**_Blessings upon your home_ **

“You up for a drink?” Gamlen asked, surprising the elf. “Like you said, I've had no news of Hawke. You can tell me stories over a pint or two.”

* * *

 

Varric is in the Hanged Man, reviewing things the Merchant Guild needs him to see, when he comes upon a most unusual sight. Solas and Gamlen walk into the Hanged Man, chatting as if they were old friends. Granted, Solas was much more reserved than he had been, but Varric just assumed he was trying to maintain some kind of peace within himself. Gamlen did seem to press a lot of people's buttons the wrong way. He was more surprised when Donnic, Iron Bull, Dorian, and Fenris joined them some time later, and he realized he had two options; Go find Flint, or join in.

“You lot look like you're about to start a game, and didn't invite me.” Varric accuses, with a broad grin, as he waltz's up to the table.

“Perish the thought, master Tethras.” Solas replied. “We are celebrating. Care to join us?”

“Wouldn't miss it.” Varric remarked, and sat down with them at the rather large table. “So, what are we celebrating?”

“An end to the fighting.” Solas answered. Varric didn't know if this meant Vael was retreating back to Starkhaven, or Iron Bull and Fenris having reached a compromise.

“Have you ever played Wicked Grace, Solas?” Donnic asked, bringing Varric out of his thoughts.

“It isn't like 'Old Maid', is it?” Solas asked, sounding cinical, and Varric's head shot up.

There is no way that elf is being serious right now. He has watched this man single-handedly destroy Blackwall in DiamondBack. Wicked Grace wasn't much different, and he knew the elf had played before. So why was he…A crook of the mouth, and Varric knew. Donnic thought him an easy mark, and it was clear from Gamlen's eyes that he agreed, and Solas was never one to shy away from teaching a very needed lesson.

Varric grinned, deciding to help, and said. “Don't worry, Chuckles, it's nowhere near has difficult as DiamondBack. I shouldn't have started you out on that game. Flint did win all your clothes, if I remember correctly.”

“Thank you for the reminder, _Durgen'len._ ” Solas grumbled, his face pinkened, but it had the desired effect. Donnic and Gamlen both looked like Wintersend had come early.

“Oh? This I have to hear.” Gamlen insisted, and Varric was anything if not helpful.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Varric proceeded to tell embarrassing stories of Solas. Donnic and Gamlen ate it up. Meanwhile, neither of them seemed to notice that Solas was quietly eating away at their winnings. The elf was so unassuming, Varric would have fallen for the performance if he didn't know better. The others realized his impromptu plan almost immediately, and added to the story telling.

Dorian made sure to mention the all women's war room meeting, in glorious details that Varric discretely wrote down for later use. Solas added commentary, which was a surprise to the dwarf, and got a good laugh out of everyone at the table. He wasn't hesitant to share stories of Varric's embarrassing escapades as well, much to Gamlen's amusement. It was almost like being back here before the Chantry blew up. More stories, and several more drinks later, Flint, Cole, Aveline, and Merrill walked into the Hanged Man looking for them.

Varric leaned over to Gamlen, and whispered out the side of his face. “Watch this.”

He didn't tell Solas that Flint was in the room, the elf knew it instantly. Solas shifted his winnings more towards Fenris, and excused himself from the table. Oddly enough, this is when Gamlen sees he's been losing more than he's winning, but watching Flint and Solas interact with each other distracts him again. It was strange to see Flint so cautious, but Varric understood. With what had happened to Solas, and everything he did to hide it, Flint wasn't sure where she stood now.

“Why are they so nervous around each other?” Gamlen asked, keeping his voice low.

“You know what a True Kindred Soul is?” Varric asked. Gamlen swearing under his breath was all the answer he needed. “They're connected like that, except he tried to break the bond. Vael had him spirited away, and tortured him. Chuckles didn't want Flint to have to feel that through him. When we found him, she saw how much he'd hidden from her, and now they're like this.”

“Shit.” Gamlen muttered.

“Can't say that I blame him. He nearly died.” Varric commented. “If it hadn't been for her, he **_would_**   have died.”

“What do you mean?” Gamlen asked, his eyes ot leaving the scene before him. Varric imagines he's never seen her look like that at anyone.

Cole is beside them in an instant, staring vacantly out at the two in question. “The last face I see. Her pain is mine, and mine is hers, and I could not keep this from her……One last goodbye, there won't be another chance. Please forgive me, _Lath'in_ ……Her eyes, I always get caught in those, please don't cry, _Lath'in._ You are my heart's deepest wish……Please don't part me from her. I can't. I can't……( _Cole pauses at this, almost like he's deep in thought again, before continuing_ )……It's too much, it's just too much. So much pain, so many wounds. How had he survived this?……Please don't take him from me, Maker, I just got him back……Stay with me. Another day. Another night. Don't leave me……”

“See, you should have lead with that.” Aveline stated, jarring Varric and Gamlen out of their thoughts. “A dying man's last thoughts are hard to refute.”

“And yet, I have no doubt you would have tried, Guard Captain.” Solas stated, with a slight grin, to which Aveline only begrudgingly glared at him.

* * *

 

Gamlen showed up at the estate the next day. He'd not had a desire to stay at the estate while she was gone, but it would be nice to visit his niece while she was still in Kirkwall. He was surprised when she opened the door, as was she to see him there. The man took one look around the estate and realized she was the one responsible for all the elves being seen more up in HighTown helping with repairs to the city. It was surprising to him when one or two passerby's would nod to him, considering he had not been known for his kindness towards elves in general.

The sitting room was just as he'd remembered it. Leandra had always liked creams and beige, and so it had been no surprise when she'd decorated the estate that way. Hawke hadn't changed it, and he imagined both of them found comfort in it. Now, the two sat at a side table that had a couple of chairs with it, across from the fireplace in the room. Neither seemed to know where to start.

“It's good to see you, Girl. You look well.” Gamlen said, hoping he didn't sound to grumpy. Leandra use to complain about that.

“Thanks, not being on the run does wonders for the skin.” She said, with a silly grin.

“I'd imagine.” He agreed, laughing a little. Moving onto more serious conversation then. “I never apologized before…should have remembered not all mages were like that man…You are proof enough of that.”

“Getting soft, Uncle?” Hawke teased. Though her tone was joking, her eyes searched his for understanding.

“I blame Charade, personally. Girl's making me soft.” He said, waving his hand as if to brush something out of the way. “So where's your betrothed anyway? That Solas fellow.”

“Oh!” Hawke said, in realization. “He's helping Merrill with the mirror. If they can get it working, I can visit a lot more. It's…hard to explain how those things work. I'm not sure of all of it myself.”

“He's like you though? The glowing eyes bit was hard to miss.” Gamlen asked, curious to know. Hawke looked at him in confusion. “He stopped by my place yesterday, spoke of how Vael's been sending assassins after you, got very angry about it. Likely has no idea he did the glowy eye thing, at least, he didn't **_seem_**   aware of it. Reminded me a bit of you like that.”

“He…stopped by your place?” Hawke asked, more confused now. “How did he even know where it was?”

“By the smell, I'd wager. Never could get that cabbage smell to go away.” Gamlen said, joking at that last bit. Hawke laughed at that too. He calmed down again, before asking. “Just how much trouble are you in? The things he said to me, Girl…He's worried, and scared out of his mind, which is probably why he was so stupid as to think he could hide what was happening to him from you.”

“It's…complicate, Uncle.” Hawke said, delicately. “There are things I can't tell you, and…Well, you know me. If I'm not in danger, something is wrong.”

“That **_does_** seem to be the norm for you.” Gamlen teased, before turning serious again. “You'll stay safe though, as best as you can anyway, and I want letters. No more of this months on end without me hearing from you. You and Charade are the only family I have left now.”

“I've missed you too, Uncle.” Hawke stated, misty eyed.

* * *

 

“So this thing goes to where, exactly?” Fenris asked, regarding the El'u'vi'an with apprehension.

“Not every _El'u'vi'an_ lead to _Sum'vir'an._ ” Solas explained, though seeing that Fenris didn't understand that word, he backtracked. “This one does not lead to the crossroads, at least not directly. It leads to another _el'u'vi'an_ , a halfway point between here and the crossroads. From there, you can decide if you want to go further.”

Fenris looked to Hawke, who raised her hands up in surrender, and said. “Don't look at me. I haven't been there yet.”

“It's just…are these things really safe?” Fenris asked, looking back at the mirror that caused so much trouble. “This one had a demon attached to it for over an Age, and your telling me that just because he wiggled his fingers at it, it's fine now?”

Both Hawke and Merrill burst into fits of laughter that confused him, but finally, through her laughter, Hawke tried to explain. “I never thought…I'd every…hear you say… ** _wiggle!"_**

“He even…did…the thing…with his fingers!” Merrill added, through her own laughter, as she half-heartedly wiggled her own fingers.

“ _Na tas, Vherlin?_ ” Fenris asks, mostly muttering to himself, but both Merrill and Hawke stop and start staring at him, and now he knows he's blushing up to the tips of his ears. Solas is doing his very best to act impassive, but there is laughter in his eyes, if Fenris thought to dare to look long enough to find out. “What did you two think I was doing in here? Helping him?”

**_You too, kitten?_ **

“My money was on sharing stories of when I could just be a kid.” Hawke muttered to Merrill, who nodded solemnly.

“That too, _Lath'in._ ” Solas stated. Fenris was sure he was blushing to his shoulders now.

“I shall collect my payment accordingly.” Hawke stated, with a happy sigh.

“I'm afraid I'm a bit of a pauper at the moment, _Lath'in._ ” Solas said, frowning for a moment. “I let the dwarf invest it, something he tells me he's good at anyway, but I have yet to see progress.”

“If you had paid attention, _Ara'nas_ , I believe I said _'payment'.”_ Hawke stated, using a sultry tone Fenris was not use to hearing from her…ever. It certainly made Solas blush to the tips of his ears to hear it. “And payment can be **_anything_.”**

The man visibly gulped at this.

“ _Sastrahnen, Lath'in?_ ” Solas asked, a wolfish grin slowly spreading across his face answered only by her own.

**_Anything, Love?_ **

“Alright, that's it. I can't deal with the two of you…being…like… ** _this_ _._ ”** Fenris huffed, fairly certain he was glowing red right now. “Go…flirt somewhere else.”

Solas chuckled at this, but added. “The two of you do not have to decide now, but you should not take long. We will have to return to Skyhold soon, and you will need to decide if your journey leads there, or through that _El'u'vi'an._ ”

The two left Fenris and Merrill to talk alone, but Fenris noted that Hawke looked rather curious as she looked back at them.

* * *

 

She found Iron Bull at the Hanged Man again, and she wondered if he stayed here because it reminded him of The Herald's Rest. The good thing about Corrif was that he gave zero shits about what you were. You gave him money, he gave you food and drink, simple as that. She waved at the qunari mercenary that had taken residence at the Hanged Man, and he nodded back before turning to someone who had been speaking with him already. Iron Bull was sitting off to the side, somewhere between scowling and moping into his beer.

“Whatever it did to you, I'm sure it isn't that bad?” Hawke teased, after having gotten a tray of meats and cheeses as Nora came around with two large steins of ale.

“Hawke, I need-” Bull began.

“It's okay, you know.” Hawke said, before taking a bite of her food. When she was done, she went on. “If you decide to tell them, I mean, it's okay.”

 **“ _What?”_**   Iron Bull asked, before downing a drink from the stein she'd had brought to him.

“I don't agree with it, but I get it. The Qun is important to you, part of who you are.” Hawke explained. “For me to ask you to hide that, knowing the consequences of what they would do to you, would be selfish of me.”

 **“ _Shit_ _,_** Hawke. Can't you just be mad at me?” Iron Bull groused, stealing a bit of food for himself. “You know, big bad Qun and all that? If I do this, Hawke, the entire Qun will be after you and Solas. They'll skip the whole peaceful conversion bit, and go straight to war. They want to anyway.”

“That's not really news, Bull.” Hawke stated, surprising him. “What do you want me to say? This isn't my choice to make. I can not influence your decision. I can only be your friend. Besides, it's not like we'd be unprepared.”

“No more information, okay, Hawke?” Bull joked. “I already have enough I'm trying not to talk about.”

“Maker forbid.” Hawke said, with a snort, but then calmed down. “You're a good man, Bull. Remember that.”

* * *

 

Just after Hawke left…

 

“I see she has spoken to you then.” Solas concluded, and Iron Bull looked up at him in surprise before shaking his head in aggravation.

“Not you too, Solas.” Iron Bull groaned. “Hawke already said she understood if I told them. With all my Ben-Hassrath training, I never expected **_that_**   from her.”

“Is it really so surprising, Iron Bull?” Solas asked, tilting his head to the side as if in thought. “She has a history of forgiving and redeeming those she cares for. You would just be another she added to the list.”

“She should be pissed. You should be more so.” Iron Bull stated, shaking his head at it all.

“I am, but Hawke has a forgiving nature, and I would be denying hers if I chose to act on that anger.” Solas stated, before sitting down at the table with him. “Out of all of the people she has saved or redeemed, you have something only one other has had, the knowledge of what your choice will lead to, and a choice to make.”

“If you're about to tell me a secret, Solas, don't.” Iron Bull, warned.

“Tell me, Iron Bull, what does the Qun know about _Sulahn'ean_?” Solas asked, his voice taking on a tone of instruction as if he were casually speaking of the Fade to a willing student.

“Not much, I guess, just that she was the consort of…Oh.” Iron Bull said, as realization hit him. He'd never heard Solas call her that, and so it had never clicked for him.

“Oh indeed.” Solas said, with a tired sigh. “I know that I have refered to _Alhasha_ as such in the company of others, so I can only assume that the spies I can not hear have likely caught it. So if you were thinking of only telling the Qun who **_I_   **was, it will not save her like you or I would hope. As it is, I was foolish, and told Vael. So, maybe there is no choice for you to have to make. Maybe they already know, and if that is the case, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I don't know if that is suppose to make me feel better or not.” Iron Bull stated, making Solas grin slightly.

“Neither do I, but it is there all the same.” Solas replied, with a nod of his head. “You may indeed have to make a choice one day. Though I do not agree with the Qun, I understand that it is important to you, and I hope that you never have to make the choice between it and what you hold dear. Believe me when I say it is the most painful thing you will ever know.”

“You weren't wrong.” Cole said, showing up as he did, patting Solas on the shoulder.

“I know. I do not regret it, but the choice itself was still a painful one.” Solas said, un-surprised by Cole, before turning back to Iron Bull. “That was the choice I had to make, my people or my love, and I chose. Some things are worth sacrificing everything, but it doesn't make dealing with the consequences any easier. I may one day be able to also help my people, but not many get the chance to choose both.”

* * *

 

It was easy to see how worn out Solas was when the group got back to Skyhold. Though he had recovered in Kirkwall, Lavellan doubted he would be back to full strength for some time. Hawke too seemed diminished somehow, but she was smiling again, and that was something they hadn't seen in a while. Iron Bull looked pensive, and much more serious than he normally did. Anders and Cole chatted like old friends, with Dorian adding commentary every so often.

That Fenris was not with them came as a surprise, but Hawke had sent a missive ahead of them hinting that he'd stayed behind for someone he cared for. It surprised Lavellan, mainly because she didn't think the man would wander too far from Hawke if he could help it, but this surely meant that the man would visit Hawke from time to time. Varric, as usual, looked happy for the most part. No doubt the dwarf had half a million ideas for his latest book, but he did look more tired than she'd ever seen him, like he was trying to hide it behind the enthusiasm. Considering that Vael had been one of his friends, despite how much of a pain Varric had claimed him to be, Lavellan was not surprised that he'd taken this hard.

As it was, Lavellan was having to take Vael's actions against the Inquisition very seriously, and now things with Starkhaven were looking pretty tense. Sera seemed almost itchy to talk to Solas about 'Prince Baddie', and while Lavellan didn't know what Solas had asked her to do, the fact that Sera had listened spoke volumes. Biscuit had been driving the recruits…and just about everyone else…up the wall while waiting for Hawke and Solas to return. She did not miss the look of sheer relief of Vivienne's face when Hawke and Solas came into view. The mabari pup had taken to lazing about in her bed every chance it could get, which of course meant chewing on all of her expensive shoes, and those poor pillows.

“ _Ha'hren!_  Hawke! It is good to have the two of you back.” Lavellan said, in greeting, when the two were close enough. “Biscuit has missed you both.”

“That's code for 'he's been a menace'.” Hawke whispered to Solas, who chuckled in response.

“It is good to be back, _Lethal'lan_.” Solas replied, with the same slight smile as always, but this time Lavellan couldn't help but frown. There was a change to Solas, a hesitation that had not been there before. “I will give my report tomorrow, if that is alright. For now, it has been a long journey, and I think we could all use the rest.”

“Of course.” Lavellan agreed, understanding the need to rest after a long journey. “Solas, Hawke, it really is good to see you both well again. Skyhold isn't the same without you.”

“It's almost as if she didn't miss us at all.” Dorian lamented, with a slight grin, to Varric.

“Not that we risked the anger of Flint or anything.” Varric said, nodding in his agreement.

“The things we do for those who don't notice us.” Anders added, with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, come on you lot.” Lavellan teased, earning even bigger grins from them all. “Drinks are on me.”

 


	32. Fall into the Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much for rest and relaxation. As soon as they get back, it's business as usual. Secrets that aren't so secret weigh on Solas, and Blackwall offers aid, but how close to home does it hit for him? Adamant is as bad as everyone thinks it's going to be. What will they do when they realize what they've fallen into?

Chapter 32

 

Solas looked upon her sleeping form with a mix of apprehension and pride. She had proven that she would not let him destroy himself, even if it was with the intention of protecting her, but Vael had proven more than once that he was not one to give up easily. It was that thought that caused his apprehension. He had made the mistake of showing that cretin mercy, something he would not do again, not for Vael. After all, she had described him to Varric as devious and merciless before she'd met him to know that they were true, and it was those traits he would need in order to deal with Vael.

Mercy and forgiveness were foreign things to his nature, but he could manage them for those he was close to, while his nas'falon tended to forgive and show mercy more often than not. She was slow to anger, and once crossed, her anger was without mercy; even her anger amongst her friends was more mischievous than harmful. Though Solas had never witnessed her truly angry, Varric had told him enough stories for him to know she could exact vengeance that went even beyond his standards when she so chose. Even in all the times he had messed up, she had never been angry enough to write him off completely, but pushing the limits of her mercy was not something he wanted to test. It would be a mistake to spit on the gift that spell had given him.

Removing himself from the bed, he dressed and stepped outside. He'd seen the way Sera had looked at him when they'd gotten back, knew that she had something for him. From the look on her face, he wasn't sure it was something he wanted to hear, but he was done underestimating Vael. Not many were out so late at night, but no one really noticed him when he slipped into The Herald's Rest. Sera had a lamp lit, as if she knew he would find her now, and he was not disappointed to see that she was looking right at him when he came into view of her room.

“You look like shite.” Sera stated, nodding to him.

“Still better than before.” Solas replied, knowing she was talking about what had happened to him. The way she spoke had been difficult for him to translate at first, but now that he understood, he had no trouble speaking with her. “You look like you have news.”

“Sit, or stand, or whatever. It's still going to be shite news anyway.” Sera said, and he sat across from her on one of the window seats. “That prince baddie is dying.”

“I fail to see how this is shit news, Sera.” Solas remarked, a bite to his voice.

“I don't know about you, but when **_I_  ** want to kill someone, I like to be the one that **_actually_** kills them.” Sera replied, with a snort. “Some wash-maid said there was blood in his clothes, but he's been back in his big palace for ages now. Whatever happened should have healed by now, yeah?”

“ _Alhasha_ …When he ran from the battlefield, she said she sent her magic out after him, blades of light. They would be slow to heal, if they can at all.” Solas said, after a thought.

“Ugh. You two and your magic bits.” Sera groaned, and then snickered. “Magic **_bits_ _.”_**

“He released the rope that held me up, and ran. She chose to stay with me rather than chase after him. Had she gotten close enough, I doubt _Alhasha_ would have thought to use her ' _magic bits_ ' to kill him.” Solas stated. “More than likely, that woman would have killed him with her bare hands.”

“It's just…He'll be desperate now, more so than ever, yeah?” Sera asked, now showing her worry. “Birdy's tough, all stabby and magics, but if that arsehole can try that and almost have her before, he'll be **_worse_** now.”

“Sera, has he attempted to rape or harm any of the servants where he is?” Solas asked, not having thought of this possibility before.

“None of them look like her, not really, not enough.” Sera said, shaking her head. “But how long till any shade of black looks like her hair? Any shade of blue, her eyes? Men like that…when they go bad, they go **_bad,_** till anything will do. No fix'n **_that_ _._** Should have just killed that arsehole back at the winter palace.”

“You are right, Sera, I should have, a mistake I intend to correct if what _Alhasha_ did does not kill him first.” Solas stated, and Sera eased up somewhat. “What is it? What else is there?”

“If he's desperate, an' she's here, how long will it be before he comes here himself?” Sera asked, scrunching her face in distaste. “There's more, schedules, n' things. I asked the Friends for information, wasn't specific about what kind so long as it was about him. They sent over everything. Some of it might be useful.”

“Thank you, Sera, this was more than I had expected.” Solas stated, gratefully, when Sera turned over all the notes she'd been given. “ _Alhasha_ is lucky to have a friend such as you.”

“Don't go getting all squishy now.” She scoffed, before snickering. “You still need to be all 'big bad', yeah?”

“Indeed.” He remarked, unwilling to hold back the wolfish grin he wore.

“You stop that!” Sera squeaked, causing Solas to chuckle at her antics. “Just get back to protecting Birdy, will ya?”

“She does seem to get into an inordinate amount of trouble.” Solas acquiesced, right before Sera smacked him up the side of the head. “Ow! What was that for?”

“That reminds me. Men can be so **_stupid._** Protecting her doesn't mean falling on your sword staff thingy, you idiot.” Sera scowled at him. “Otherwise, who's going to be at her side when you're gone? So quit being an idiot, an' fight to stay at her side. Got it?”

“Thank you, Sera.” Solas replied, before stepping out of the room, occasionally rubbing the side of his head, the notes she'd given him firmly tucked into his shirt.

Alhasha was awake when he got back, sleepily looking about the room for him. She smiled the second she saw him watching her from the doorway. He fell into a quiet peace as he crossed the room to return to her. Tomorrow, he decided, he would go over the information Sera had given him. He also knew Lavellan would want to brief them on what had happened during their absence.

* * *

 

The War Room meeting the following morning was not the relaxed one that she had expected upon arrival, but this was Lavellan. That woman seemed as apt to getting into trouble as she was. Hawke strolled in with Biscuit and Solas, intent on having an easy morning. Lavellan seemed lost in thought, going over missives, and looking over troop movements. When the woman looked up at her, Hawke lost hope for her easy morning.

“You know, this is a rather sturdy table.” Hawke said, appreciatively, running her fingertips along the grain as she went. “Have you asked the Commander for a trip around Thedas yet?”

Solas coughed, near strangled by the unexpectedness of it, and Cullen blushed awkwardly.

“Speaking of which, it seems our Commander is rather popular. There have been several… ** _i_ _ **nte** rested_** parties from Halam'shiral…asking after his… ** _lineage.”_** Josephine mentioned, trying to hide her grin, making notes on her clip board. “What should I tell them?”

“Give those to **_me_ _.”_** Leliana said, grinning mischievously as Josephine handed her the letters. “We could use this. Let us see who **_pines_** for our Commander.”

 **“ _What_ _?”_** Cullen objected, looking slightly annoyed and mortified. “I will not be used like **_bait_.”**

“Oh hush.” Leliana teased. “Just look pretty.”

The women all burst into laughter, while Cullen blushed and Solas chuckled softly.

“So what's the deal then?” Hawke asked, curious now. “When I walked in here, I thought it was going to be to tell stories of conquest and kick'n ass, not trying to cheer up the Inquisitor.”

“We have to leave for Adamant. We got word from Stroud last night that things were getting active there. He estimates everything will be ready in six days.” Lavellan stated, looking worried. “It takes three just to get there, and we'll have to take an army this time. I'll need the two of you with me, and I shouldn't ask that of you because of what you just got back from. I wanted to give you time to heal properly.”

“What? And miss me having another chance to fall and land into something I shouldn't?” Hawke asked, pretending offense. “Besides, if you leave me behind, imagine what trouble I can get into on my own?”

“Indeed. There might be another dragon to fall onto. Can't deprive her of that.” Solas remarked, wryly. “Do not worry, _Lethal'lan._ We are well enough to aid you in this.”

“We will have to lay siege to Adamant.” Cullen stated. “Luckily, it was built before the time of modern siege equipment. With the blue prints we were able to dig up, we'll be able to pinpoint where the ritual will be held. The sooner we stop this, the better.”

“Then we will get ready to leave now.” Hawke replied, and turned to leave. Biscuit followed after her. “Oh, a **_siege,_** and here I didn't get her anything. What do you say, Biscuit? How do you feel about a siege?”

* * *

 

“That woman is something else.” Cassandra scoffed, with admiration.

“Indeed.” Morrigan stated, with a knowing smile. “Our little songbird certainly _is_ something else.”

“Solas, I want to apologize.” Lavellan stated, when Hawke had gone.

“I do not understand, _Lethal'lan._ There is no need.” Solas replied, in confusion.

“After you were taken from your strangely hard to find room, a letter was sent to us. In it were several demands, the most severe of which was the surrender of the Lady Hawke. Anders was barely mentioned as a side concern.” Lady Montillyet stated, with a serious tone. “We decided as a group that it was not only within the best interests of the Inquisition, but for the safety of Hawke, we did not immediately tell her about the message. We needed time, and a strategy, neither of which we had.”

“When she found out, she barged into the War Room, and threatened us and the Inquisition if we got in her way.” Cassandra added. “It was only after the Commander gave in to her request for a ship that she calmed down enough to leave. I assume you know the others sneaked onto the ship to go to her aid?”

“She might have mentioned that.” Solas remarked, the corner of his lips twitched into a smile for a moment.

“I was trying to figure out how to rescue you while trying to keep Hawke safe.” Lavellan admitted, with a troubled expression. “I think I did more damage than anything else.”

“ _Lethal'lan_ , it would have happened eventually. Different circumstances, I'm sure, but Vael is not one without patience. He would have found a way at some point.” Solas insisted, trying to ease her concerns. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Sebastian Vael appears to be a very unstable man, getting more so by the day. Our mistake was thinking this made him less dangerous as time progressed, not more so. It is not one we will make again.” Leliana said, looking to him now. “However, if there is one thing he has **_never_** wavered in, it is the belief that Hawke is the chosen of Fen'Harel, and that he must save her from herself. We will need to figure out what this means, if we are to deal with Vael properly, and to figure out if it means another threat to her…or you.”

Solas bristled at this. This is not where he thought the conversation would go. Just how many people were going to figure this out before they were meant to know? It wasn't something he could just tell them, could he? In all honesty, he had expected to no longer be with the Inquisition before even the first person figured it out, but Vael had been shouting it from the rooftops so to speak, and even before then it had stopped being a possibility.

“Maybe that is something we can hold off on till after we deal with Adamant.” Lavellan suggested, and Solas tried his best not to visibly relax at that.

“That would be best. We've got a lot of ground to cover.” Cullen agreed, and just like that, the meeting was over.

* * *

 

“Is it really that bad?” Blackwall asked, seeing Solas's distress. “You're not still in pain or anything, are you?”

They had been riding along for quite some time, and Solas had kept to his quiet reserved nature, but more and more he was losing that, revealing how distressed he truly was. Hawke understood, and rode beside him often. He would assure her that he was well, and she would nod, but she did not look as if she believed him when she hesitantly moved to talk to someone else in the party. She would often look back to him anyway. If the others hadn't noticed, they would soon.

“It is not a physical ailment, Blackwall.” Solas insisted, quietly. “I am…at a crossroads, you could say. Everyone has their secrets. I am merely trying to decide whether mine are the kind that will eat at me if I don't share them, or the kind that will keep me safe if I keep them.”

“If you're this worried about them, it's probably the former.” Blackwall replied, after a bit of thought.

“Speaking from experience, are we?” Solas asked, with only a slight smile to let him know he was teasing him.

“Yes, well, like you said. We all have our secrets.” Blackwall agreed, a bit more serious than he'd meant to, and decided to change the subject for a moment. “You know, Solas, for all your experience, you don't carry yourself like a soldier.”

“You should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded, and cocky, always ready to fight.” Solas remarked, sagely. “Much like _Alhasha_ is now.”

“Hey!” Hawke objected, half-heartedly, from her horse somewhere in front of them.

“Ah, youth.” Blackwall said, with a sigh.

“It is a difficult balance for those who fight.” Solas continued, the two looking at each other for a moment before descending into snickering.

“Whatever it is, don't let it eat at you, Solas.” Blackwall stated, in all seriousness, once they'd stopped.

“Thank you, Blackwall, I will…try.” Solas agreed, and was about to say something else, when Lavellan's voice interrupted him.

“Why are they suddenly talking like old men?” Lavellan asked, to no one in particular.

“Uhhh, maybe because they **_are_** old?” Sera suggested, causing several of them to laugh at that. The two share a knowing look, before both Lavellan and Sera hunch over like old men as they continue riding along.

“Hey, Sera, do you remember when we slayed hordes of darkspawn together?” Lavellan asked, in her best old man impersonation.

“Yeah, as if it was…today!” Sera replied, going along with it.

“Ah, the good old days!” Lavellan lamented, right before practically the entire caravan descended into fits of laughter.

“Typical.” Blackwall sighed.

“ _Fenedhis lasa_.” Solas grumbled. The both of them refusing to laugh, no matter how much they wanted to.

* * *

 

They settled for camp that night, after hastely putting up tents. The next two days would not be easy, and then they'd have to deal with demons and Grey Wardens. Maker, what a mess. Hawke shook her head, running a hand through her hair, just thinking about it. She'd always admired the Grey Wardens, seeing as how The Hero of Fereldan was one.

She supposed that she could understand though. They were afraid, and in mass panic. One person afraid was nothing, an army filled with fear was a weapon. They were so filled with fear, they couldn't see the forest for the trees. Hawke doubted they even realized what they were doing to themselves in a misguided effort to free themselves and end the Blights forever.

Stroud was her friend, someone that had tried to save her brother. She couldn't see him succumbing to this, and Blackwall didn't fear the Calling the way the rest of his Order did. She was so lost in her thoughts, that she didn't ever notice when Blackwall sat nearby. He tended to the fire for a bit, letting her come out of her thoughts before trying to speak with her. He was good about things like that.

“My brother would have been a Warden.” She said, her voice cutting through the silence. “Had he survived the Joining, my brother would have been a Warden. For all I know, he would have been one of the people we have to face at Adamant, or a sacrifice to be found on our way there.”

“You'll drive yourself mad thinking like that.” Blackwall remarked.

“I know, but I can't help it.” Hawke admitted, with a sigh. “I keep thinking everyone there is someone's brother, or sister, someone who'll have people miss them back home. They're too scared to think, and what they're doing to save themselves is getting them killed faster than a Blight would. They can't even see it. How can I kill someone who could have been my brother?”

Blackwall sighed, before answering. “Those families you spoke of, would they want this to happen to them? If death was the only way to save them, would you hesitate?”

“It shouldn't have to be the only way.” Hawke said stubbornly.

“There may yet be some who see reason, who step aside when we fight.” Blackwall stated, after a thought. “That is the best we can hope for.”

“You know, I get why Anders isn't as affected now; With Justice being a part of him for so long, and being free of it now, I can only guess it took some of what made him a Warden away too.” Hawke said, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought. “Why then, aren't you affected? I know what the signs are, saw them when we took him down to the Deep Roads to figure out why the Carta was after me; the nightmares, the sweats, the talking to himself. You don't show any of those things, Blackwall.”

“Maybe I just hide it better.” Blackwall suggested, but Hawke shook her head.

“I'm going to head to bed. I think I've wore out my brain enough for one night, but you should know.” Hawke said, getting up, before leaning over to Blackwall and whispering. “Your eyes lose a bit of their shine when you lie, like your mind goes somewhere else. No wonder Solas beat you in DiamondBack.”

Blackwall's eyes widened, no doubt thinking over what she said as she left, and then his laughter was ringing out across camp. A few woke up to it, but quickly fell back asleep. She found Solas in a tent off to the side, and slipped into bed. He rolled over, trapping her under one of his arms, and pulling her to him. She thought he was asleep even so, and snuggled up to the warmth he provided.

“What did you say to Blackwall?” Solas asked, huskily, sleep clinging to his voice.

“His eyes dim when he lies. No wonder you beat him in DiamondBack.” She replied, smiling against his chest.

“It's the only tell he has.” Solas chuckled softly, into her hair. “Go to sleep, _Lath'in,_ tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

* * *

 

It seemed to get hotter, the further they went. Trees look wilted, the mountains around them looked bare, smoke rose from the ground. It looked like living death, ash and charred things everywhere. When they made camp that night, no one wanted to sleep. With death surrounding them as it seemed to, no one wanted to risk being caught unawares.

Conversation lessened the further they went along, until all was silent the night before they would strike at Adamant. Hawke had gone to scout ahead with the others, and find Stroud if she could. Lavellan had hoped they would hear word from her before they got there, but it didn't look like they would get that chance. Cullen was already there with the trebuchete's, and a large portion of his men. Hawke ran up to them just as they got there, Biscuit trailing after her, looking quite the sight.

The wolf skull mask was visible, resting on the top of her head for the moment, dried blood along her face, parts of her clothes burnt. She was breathing heavily when she came up to them. Solas moved forward in alarm, but she rushed past him to Blackwall, and hugged him. Blackwall, more than shocked at this, awkwardly patted her shoulder. She backed away after a moment, shaking her head in sorrow.

“It's worse than we thought, Blackwall.” She said, breaks in her voice as she does so, before turning to Lavellan. “It looks like every Grey Warden from Orlais is here, over a thousand easy. They've already started summoning demons, binding them to mages, slaves to Corypheus now. That woman…Clarel, I've seen her before. She's crazed, fearful, but not entirely unreasonable. If we can reach her, there's a chance she'll listen to me. We can stop this…I hope…”

“Inquisitor!” Cullen called out, running towards them. “We've got your way through. We can keep them off your backs till you get inside. From the looks of things, they're trying to summon something massive through.”

“Along with everything else they're doing?” Hawke asked, to which he nodded. “Maker's Breath!”

“You'll have to move quickly.” Cullen stated, looking to Lavellan. “There's no time.”

After that, it was madness. Lavellan lost sight of Hawke and Biscuit after a time, but they kept popping back up, so she did not worry as much as she thought she would. Fire rained down upon them, and demons attacked from all sides. At the rate they were going, Adamant would be destroyed before they could get to the Grey Wardens. She pushed her magic into everything she did, giving them as much time as they could to get to the courtyard.

There was screaming on both sides, as Inquisition soldiers killed Wardens and Wardens killed Inquisition soldiers. She could hear shouting from Cullen, something about their men on the Battlements, so that's where she headed. If she could help them, she would. Varric was by her side more often than not,knocking off demons with Bianca. What threw her was the warrior Wardens fighting alongside the Inquisition soldiers, as that was something she had not thought to hope for.

“Inquisitor!” One of them shouted, before slicing through a rage demon. “If we can help you get to Clarel, we'll do it. I didn't sign up for this shit.”

“Clarel's gone mad! Blood magic and demons!” Another insisted, as they continued to fight.

“If you are unaffected by the binding, and wish to fight against this, head to the breach. Tell this to any other Warrior Wardens you come across.” Lavellan stated, as they moved through. “We will guarantee their safety!”

More running, more fighting. Blackwall and Hawke acted like their own unite, fighting through demons, helping Wardens break free where they could. Varric and Iron Bull seemed to be everywhere at once. The four of them had their own game of how many demons they could kill, and even through all the fighting, they were trying to decide on a prize. Lavellan suspected this was how they kept their minds off of how awful it all was.

“Oh! Oh, I know! Winner gets to rub my feet!” Hawke announced, happily. Suddenly lightning arched through the area, killing at least half the demons that were left on the battlements, and Solas looked annoyed.

“Absolutely not!” He said, turning to attack another demon bound mage. "Find another prize!"

“Damn, Solas.” Iron Bull grumbled, appreciatively.

“You're no fun, Chuckles!” Varric laughed, before putting a bolt into another demon.

“I do what I can, master Tethras.” Solas replied, with a knowing smile, after sending a stone fist across the battlements and into another demon.

“Damn it, Bull!” Hawke shouted, now covered in some kind of slimy green ooze. “That one exploded! You lose points!”

“That's horse shit, Hawke, and you know it.” Blackwall threw in, with a bit of a laugh.

“That's what it feels like I'm covered in.” Hawke grumbled.

* * *

 

Clarel was a lot different than how Hawke remembered. Her facial features were permanently marred with worry and purpose. There was blood everywhere, and the woman spoke of honour and duty. The Hero of Fereldan wouldn't do this, Hawke scoffed inwardly. The woman wasn't even here, which was all the proof Hawke needed to know that this was complete and utter buffalo shit.

“Clarel, if you complete that ritual, you're doing exactly what Erimond wants!” Lavellan insisted, desperately trying to get her to listen to reason.

Livius, the teventer mage Solas told her about, threw his arms up beginning to protest. “What? Fighting the Blight? Keeping the world safe from darkspawn? Who wouldn't want that?” He looked around, seeing that Clarel seemed to falter for a moment. "And, _yes,_ the ritual requires blood sacrifice. Hate me for that if you must, but do not hate the Wardens for doing their duty!"

Clarel stepped forward placing the dagger back into her waist band, with a renewed sense of purpose. “We make the sacrifices no one else will. Our warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them.”

Stroud stepped forward his fists clenched in anger, "And then your Tevinter ally binds the mages to Corypheus!"

Clarel seemed shocked at the name, faltering once again. “Corypheus!? But, he's dead.”

Her eyes rapidly moving back and forth at the scene before her. Bodies of those she called brother and sister, people she'd killed herself, drained of their life force. Pools of blood staining the stone floor around them. Something in her demeanor shifted, doubt Hawke hoped. Livius walked up to her, attempting to push her to finish the ritual.

“Their people will say **_anything_** to shake your confidence, Clarel.” He said, as he laid his hand on her should a moment of reassurance as he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Damn it, Clarel, you're smarter than this! Corypheus is not dead.” Hawke stated, angrily. “If anyone should know, it'd be me. I'm one of the ones who fucking killed him in the first place!”

For a moment, Hawke thinks Clarel will come around. She's paused, looking unsure. It is enough to give Hawke a little more hope. This could work, they could fight that Livius. This couldn't be the end, her mind refused to believe it.

“Bring it through!” Clarel called out, motioning the mages to get going. Hawke groaned, and look down, shaking her head.

Lavellan looked to Blackwall, pleading “Blackwall, can you talk some sense into them?!”

He stepped forward, he hadn't drawn his sword and as calmly and loudly as he could he spoke. “You don't know me, but you may have heard my name. Like you, I've give my life to the Grey Wardens. The first time I put on this armor, I felt like I belonged. Like I was part of something honorable, something with a purpose. I know how **_good_** that feels. How **_safe_ _._** But fighting and dying here today won't **_stop_** the Blight. If you want to stop the Blight, kill that bastard up there. His master is the living embodiment of its corruption!" he shouted drawing his sword and pointing it at Livius.

Way to go Blackwall, Hawke thinks to herself, should use him for all of our motivational speeches. Wardens were beginning to look questioningly to Clarel. Even she was looking a bit more unsure. Blackwall was a damned good speaker! Livius must have realized things were taking a turn against him, and stalked forward angrily towards them.

“My master sent me something for you, in case you decided to show up.” Livius gloated, just before the blighted dragon swooped in spewing red crystals at them.

In outrage, Clarel attacked Livius, sending an orb of electricity at him. Rather than convince the woman not to attack him, the man ran. Clarel looked around her, seeing the destruction her choices had brought her, as if it were the first time she was truly seeing things clearly. Outraged, she ran after Livius, even as the dragon made another pass at them. Hawke and Lavellan looked to each other and nodded in understanding, before chasing off after Clarel.

Neither checked to see if the others followed them, attacking demons and possessed Grey Warden mages as they went. Clarel's shouting could be heard, so they knew she was close, and she was pissed. To have fallen for the devious teventer mage's ploy so thoroughly…The Grey Wardens may never come back from such a devastating blow. The two women rushed into view just in time to see the dragon land before Clarel.

Blocking the only way out, it tore into her. It attacked her, gathering her up in its mouth before flinging her about like a rag doll. When it threw her, both women were surprised to find she was still alive. However, she would die without immediate healing, and there was no way to reach her without risking the dragons teeth. She knew she was going to die, and she was using the last of her magic to strike a blow to the dragon.

“In war, Victory. In peace, Vigilance…”

Her magic did more than either of them thought, and soon pieces of the bridge were crumbing under the weight. Hawke, Lavellan, and the others that had managed to catch up to them, all ran as fast as they could away from the crumbling debris, but it wasn't enough. They all fell, but they didn't land in the ground below. Lavellan did something, the magic in her hand sparking to life to save them, and suddenly they were floating. Hawke ended up side down, or maybe it was everyone else, standing on floating debris.

* * *

 

“This place…I know it…” Lavellan said, looking around at everything, in a state of confusion. “We're back in the Fade.”

“Well, I suppose I can knock of entering the Fade physically off my bucket list. Can't say it was ever really on it though. Glad I took this chance to fall into something else that I shouldn't.” Hawke remarked dryly, as she righted herself with everyone else. “How do we get out?”

“There.” Lavellan stated, pointing to a green glow off in the distance. “That must be the rift back in the main hall. If we can get there we can get out of the fade and I can seal the rift behind us.”

Everyone looked around nervously, before heading out.

“ _Ane na san, Lath'in?_ ” Solas asked, quietly. From the corner of her eye, Lavellan could see his fingers entwining with Hawke's own, and smiled inwardly at the sight.

**_Are you alright, Love?_ **

“I'm alright, Solas. It's just…It feels **_wrong_** here, like the Fade has been corrupted.” Hawke replied, quietly. “It shouldn't _be_ like this.”

“If I get possessed faint to my blind side then go low. Cullen says I leave myself open.” Iron Bull said, rambling a bit.

“You're not going to get **_possessed_ ,** Bull.” Lavellan said, with a snort. Hawke in the background whispering ( _They're coming to get you, Bull_ ) as if she were telling some ghost story. “We'll be alright, and we'll all get out of here.”

“I'm rather looking forward to that part.” Stroud admitted. Blackwall nodded sagely.

“Do you think any of the others got pulled in?” Hawke asked, as she looked around.

“None of the others were close enough when the bridge collapsed.” Lavellan reasoned. “I would hate for Cole to have to see the Fade like this, and Cullen…I…”

“We'll make it back.” Hawke insisted, with one of her mischievous grins. “We're too crazy for the Fade to hold us for long.”

This place was a nightmare. It was like a desert, with how cracked the ground was. Gloomy skies tinted green, water dripping from nowhere, water you could walk on like stone. The feel of the place was oppressive, and it put everyone on edge. Solas, for all his calm demeanor, seemed to feel the affects of it even more deeply.

“We should not linger here.” Solas stated, sounding troubled. “Look, the Black City. It is strange, even now, it is almost like we could touch it.”

There wasn't much talking after that, each lost in their own thoughts, but around the bend they got another shock. An older woman in Chantry robes was there waiting for them. Lavellan narrowed her eyes at the woman in question. There was something familiar about her, about seeing her in this place. It wasn't possible for the Divine to have survived all this time, surely.

“I greet you Warden and Champion.” She tipped her head slightly to them with her hands neatly folded in her lap.  
Stroud stammered, taking a step forward. “Divine Justinia... It can't be…”

“So this is Divine Justinia?” Hawke asked, in surprise and wonderment, before looking to the woman. “Mmm…I figured she would be a bit angrier than this…You know, all things considering…Also, I kind of thought you would be dead, your worship. You've been in here for quite some time.”

The woman seemed un-phased by their bantering, turning her attention to Lavellan. “You think my survival impossible, yet here you stand in the fade, alive. Either way we do not have time for a debate on my existence and what I am. I am here to help you. You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, do you Inquisitor?”

That was when Lavellan knew.

“The real Divine would have no way of knowing I was made Inquisitor.” Lavellan stated

“I have seen it, as I have seen many things through the memories the fear demon steals. A demon loyal to Corypheus. It is the nightmare you forget upon waking. It feeds off memories of fear and darkness. Growing fat upon the terror. The terror, false Calling which forced the Warden's to make such grave mistakes: its work.” The Divine look a like stated, though she did not move towards them.

Stroud growled low under his breath, as he clenched his sword hilt tightly. “Then perhaps I owe it a visit.”

“You will have your chance, brave Warden. This place of darkness, is its lair.” The Divine look a like stated, as she slowly swept her arm out to the area around them. Sparks of green light flittering and brightening the areas around them, and she returned her attention to Lavellan. “Before you do anything else here, however, you must recover your memories.” She gracefully pointed her arm at several wisps floating in the air. “Draw upon them with your Mark. Bring them back into yourself.”

 


	33. Fall out of the Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What they see in the Fade changes everything, and now they must race to freedom, but...not everyone makes it through. One is stuck in the Fade, and they will have to find their way home...if they can.

Chapter 33

 

The scene flashed before them. Grey wardens had attacked and held the Divine against her will. They'd tried to use her in an attempt to access the power of the orb for Corypheus. Alhasha squeezed his hand as she watched in horror as the scene unfolded before them all. Lavellan had literally stumbled upon the ritual, instinctively grabbing the orb before anyone else could.

“ _Tel'uth sal, Solas_.” Alhasha said quietly, having turned to lean into him as Lavellan struggled to come to terms with what she'd seen. “ _Ar'shor halani na, y na'tel'ela te rahnen la ra sal_.”

**_Never again, Solas – I'll help you, but you can't do things like that again_ **

He'd known it was a mistake to trust Corypheus with the orb, had understood the sacrifice it would exact, but he'd thought it had been worth it then. It had been easy to think of the death of thousands as necessary, but Alhasha cried for one she didn't even know. This was another way they were different. He did not care for the Divine the way she did, but he recognized the mistake he made. Had he never known of her, maybe he could have lived with it, but not now.

“ _Ar tel air elvar'linast'vir eindral bell'ana venuralas-ha'raja i'tel garal ara da'lavi linast_.” Solas whispered back to her, hoping she didn't think no more blood would be shed. The price to bring his world back would more than likely be a bloody one.

**_I did not wage war against immortal God-kings without getting my hands bloody_ **

“Yes, but they were **_your_** hands, Solas.” She whispered, harshly. “ _Vis na ema vera ei vun, na myr ema inana ra vara es'var inan nar'lin_. That woman didn't deserve her fate, and you bloody well know it.”

**_If you have to take a life, you should have to watch it leave their eyes yourself._ **

Her eyes shown like fire, but he couldn't bring himself to fear it yet. Instead, he pulled her further to him, so he could whisper into her ear, and replied. “ _Ahn sai ra Ar ema tel'uth thes'an na in Elgar'vhen'an?_ ”

**_Why is it I have never taken you in the Fade?_ **

“I'm trying to be **_angry_**   at you, Solas.” Alhasha huffed, in annoyance, even as she nipped at his ear. “This is important, _Ara'nas.”_

“It is, _Lath'in,_ but you are rather distracting when you're all angry at me.” Solas admitted, as he returned the favor. “It's your fault I **_like_**   being in trouble anyway, _Sulahn'ean.”_

“Can you two not keep your hands to yourself till we get out of danger? If you would, please?” Blackwall asked, teasingly. “Maker's Breath, you two are worse than a pair of randy teenagers.”

It was only then that Alhasha seemed to remember the others in their company, and blushed a wonderfully deep shade of red. She looked torn between wanting to be angry at him, and wanting to devour him. With only mild teasing, surprising considering Iron Bull never misses an opportunity to tease someone, they group set out again. Lavellan was lost in thought, along with Stroud, or otherwise she might have joined in. Solas worried for the day his friend realized what had happened was his fault.

“Ah, I see we have a **_visitor.”_** A deep booming voice called out, in a bored tone. “Some foolish little girl has come to steal the fear I **_kindly_** lifted from her shoulders. You should have **_thanked_** me, and left your fear where it lay, **_forgotten._** You think that pain will make you **_stronger?_** What fool filled your mind with such drivel? The only one who grows stronger from your fears…is **_me_** …but you are a **_guest_** here in my home. So by **_all_** means, let me return what you have forgotten.”

They were able to follow the spirit that mimicked the Divine, quickly gathering the memories that Lavellan needed to see. It hadn't been Andraste that had saved her, pushing her to escape the Fade. It had been the Divine's last act before death, something he could see that tore at Lavellan. The spirit glowed and returned to it's more natural form, almost angelic, saddened that it had disappointed them. With the demon after them again, closer than before, they did not have the time to indulge in exploratory conversation with it.

“Spiders. Why did it have to be spiders?” Alhasha mumbles to herself.

Lavellan nodding in understanding. Solas merely marveled at the two of them. They were two of the most powerful women he had ever known, and they were afraid of something as easily defeatable as spiders. A childhood fear that never really went away, he wagered. He'd have to ask, after they were out of the Fade physically.

“I am the veiled hand of Corypheus himself! The demon army you fear? I **_command_** it! They are bound all through me!” The voice boomed again, seemingly from everywhere and yet nowhere at all.

“So…if we banish you…” Lavellan pondered, looking to Alhasha as if to see if she followed the same train of thought.

“…We banish the demons…” Alhasha confirmed, that wolfish grin of hers he loved so much returning to her features. “Thank you, every fear come to life.”

Lavellan smirked when the demon growled at them. They made their way through, the rift getting closer all the time. Luck like that just couldn't stay for long, and demons came pouring from all over to attack them. It was almost as if Nightmare was trying to test them. It began naming their deepest fears.

“ _Dirth, harellan! Na banal enasalin. Nar solas ena nar din_.” Nightmare gloated. “ _Na shor laima ash tas_.”

**_Speak, rebel! You care for nothing but victory. Your pride will be your death – You will lose her too_ **

“ _Banal nadas_.” Solas stated, keeping his voice even. “ _Eil as emma!"_

**_Nothing is inevitable – And she is mine!_ **

It went after the others next, naming their insecurities for them. Thankfully it spoke cryptically enough so that no one knew his fear, besides losing Alhasha, but it also meant that the others could lose themselves to their thoughts and fears. It meant that when it came time for Alhasha's, he did not hear it, as it was spoken so low so that only she could hear. If her stark white face was any indication, the demon had succeeded in naming her fear so well. He didn't like the look on her face now, and there was no way for him to assure her here.

They ran for it, the exit so close they could taste it, only to be stopped short. A giant spider with multiple eyes loomed over them, blocking the path to the breach. Also, a tall slender demon with multiple arms stood before them, spider like and faceless, with only a mouth with fangs. They were going to have to fight their way through. As they backed up, the spirit came forward and gently touched Lavellan's arm as if in comfort.

“If you would, please tell Leliana 'I'm sorry I failed you too'.” The Spirit pleaded, before turning its attention to the spider demon.

It grew brighter and brighter till they could no longer look at it. Sparks of energy shot out of it as it rose up and flung itself hard into the face of the giant spider creature. The demon let out a howl as it toppled out of sight over the ridge it crawl up from. The nightmare demon let out a loud hiss, as it fell to its knees. From the looks of things, all they did was make it angry.

* * *

 

“We deal with this thing, and we can get out of here!” Lavellan declared, before sending a burst of fire at it.

It was chaos. They fought the demon even as they fought the minions it called, the fears it evoked in them. She saw things, scenarios, she never thought she would ever see; things she never wanted to see again. Through the chaos of the fight, they were all separated, having to fight their demons alone. It made them desperate, made them fight harder to push through, until finally Lavellan managed to set the creature ablaze long enough for them to make a break for it.

“Hurry! Make it to the Rift!” Lavellan shouted, as they ran.

They were nearly to the rift now. Iron Bull made it through first. Blackwall was nearly there, Solas neared the rift, with Stroud right behind him. Hawke followed just after Lavellan. They were close now, so close, but the giant spider was trying to crawl its way out of the ravine. It would get to them before they made it all through, and Hawke and Lavellan knew it. Before Lavellan could say anything, Hawke pulled her close.

“Don't let him **_stop._** He'll try to stop me. Don't **_let_** him.” Hawke whispered, quickly looking to Solas, who hadn't realized the two had stopped yet. Her eyes were wide and frantic. “Make him go through. Don't let him be trapped here too. Make sure Stroud reminds the Wardens who they use to be. Now, go!”

Hawke turned and ran towards the large spider demon, and there were others. The ones that Nightmare had under its control were now coming for them. Lavellan nodded in understanding, and ran on to the rift. When they got to the rift, Solas turned to make sure Hawke had followed him. His startled and anguished face when he saw that she had turned to buy them time, ate at Lavellan, even as she wrapped her arms around him to pull him through the rift.

* * *

 

Lavellan closed the rift behind them, even as Solas reached back in an attempt to follow after Alhasha. He couldn't concentrate, could barely maintain a false calm as Lavellan assured the troups that the fight was over. Stroud galvanized the last of the Grey Wardens. In part, Solas was grateful that she had ordered them out of Orlais, though she had given them respite for the night. Blackwall was the only one of the Order he could stand to look at right now, the only one that Lavellan trusted.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and so he made his way away from the others so that if he projected his magic it would not hurt them. He could feel Alhasha's terror, her determination to fight. How could she **_do_** this? What made her think to stay behind? The Grey Wardens weren't **_worth_** this! They weren't worth **_her!_**

Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees, gasping for each breath. He tried to reach out to her, to appear where she was, or to at least see what was happening to her, but the way was blocked when it had never been before. He couldn't make it to her, not as he was, and that sent him into a panic worse than the one he was already in. Each breath was becoming harder to take, and the more he tried to reach her, the harder each breath was to take. Solas shook with the effort of it, arms wrapped around himself, as he continued to gasp for air.

 ** _“Solas!_**   Solas, **_look_** at me.” Lavellan insisted, crouching in front of him. He could barely hear her, blood rushing through his ears. “Breathe. Just **_breathe._** She's alive. She'll make it.”

“…I can't…I can't get to her…” Solas tried to explain between breaths.

“Nightmare must have gotten into her head, showed her a fear she couldn't face.” Lavellan explained. “She told me to force you through, and there wasn't time to debate it.”

Varric ran up to them then, out of breath, and asked. “Heard you had some trip, Lightning.” He looked around with a frown, seeing the shape Solas was in. “Chuckles…Where…Where's Flint?”

Solas shook his head, unable to say it, the anguish threatening to undo him.

“Tell me you didn't leave her in there, Chuckles.” Varric said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She was right behind me…I thought…” Solas said, almost as if he were speaking to himself, still struggling to breathe. “She was right behind me, and I…I didn't…We **_left_** her there…” He looked to Lavellan. “How could we just **_leave_** her there?”

“Solas, I **_promise_** you, we will do everything we can to get her back.” Lavellan vowed, sincerely. “We will **_not_** leave her there.”

“If she can…If she isn't…There were so many… ** _too_** many…” Solas tried, imploring as he shook his head, but Lavellan understood.

“If I made it out, she can too.” Lavellan insisted, trying to comfort him.

“You had the **_anchor_** …an **_ally_** …Alhasha does not.” Solas countered, still gripped by panic. “What if she-”

“She'll make it.” Lavellan tried again, a bit more firmly.

“Cole…I need Cole.” Solas said, his breaths coming through a little better, though he still shook in his panic. “She's still alive, but I…I don't know…for how long.”

“I can't get to her, not like this, not as I am.” Cole stated, suddenly there and crouching in front of him.

“We need to **_try,_** Cole. Please.” Solas pleaded, and the spirit boy nodded.

* * *

 

As night had settled on Adamant, Solas and Cole worked tirelessly trying to find an answer to getting Hawke out of the Fade physically. That Lavellan had made it out of there was nothing short of a miracle, but she had had the help of the Divine. Hawke had no one with her, and an army of demons to take on alone. Iron Bull suspected that his efforts to find a way to Hawke were the only thing keeping Solas from slipping into despair. The more time that past though, the more desperate Solas became.

The normally stoic elf had slipped into speaking full elvhen long ago, pacing back and forth as he went. Cole followed after him, in a manner of speaking, trying calm Solas down as they bounced ideas off of each other. Solas refused to leave the area, just in case, and Cole was bound and determined to help him. At some point, they were going to have to do something. The answers could very well be at Skyhold for all they knew, or at least he'd be able to think after a good nights sleep.

“He's been like that for hours now.” Iron Bull commented, watching Solas pace back and forth as he shot ideas off of Cole.

“Watching him is pretty much the only thing keeping me from doing the same thing he is.” Varric admitted.

“How long are you going to let him go on like this before he has to face the hard truth?” Stroud asked, his voice stern. “Realistically speaking, Hawke is very likely **_dead_**   by now. Even if she had **_somehow_**   survived the horde of demons that were no longer in Nightmare's control; She has no food or water. How long can she **_possibly_** survive in the Fade physically without those things? And that's if she isn't injured.”

“I suggest you don't go over **_there_** with that speech.” Varric stated, with a snort. “Wardens may inspire, and all that, but that elf is a hair's breath away from killing the lot of you as it is. No offense, Hero.”

“None taken.” Blackwall replied, sounding tired. “I can't imagine facing what Solas is right now. Logically speaking, Stroud isn't wrong, but I've fought at Hawke's side long enough to know that logical arguments can't even begin to cover the kinds of things I've seen that woman do.”

“Why is he so **_set_** on this?” Stroud asked, turning his attention to Varric and the others.

“You saw that little display in the Fade, and you have to ask why he's like this?” Lavellan asked, eyeing the man now. “That woman you owe your life to, that the Grey Wardens owes their lives to, is his True Kindred Soul, and she's stuck in a place he can't get to. What exactly do you expect him to do?”

* * *

 

“Pain, and panic, but he's safe. He's **_safe.”_** Cole said, as he followed after Solas in his awkward gate.

“ _Thu te ra **halani** em?!_ ” Solas shouted, angrily, as he turned to continue pacing in a different direction.

**_How does that_ help _me?!_**

“She's **_alive.”_** Cole answered, bringing Solas up short.

“ _Na ane sahl. Ir abelas, ma falon_.” Solas said, in apology, before beginning pacing again. “ _Ahn eirdyr man? Math? As ema esh'ala?_ ”

**_You are right. I am sorry, my friend – What about water? Food? She has them?_ **

“The bag she always carries has them. It is very helpful.” Cole explained, as he followed. “I like it. It likes to help. It will help you too one day. She has plans.”

“ _Ane tamahn sast sou'i've'ana vyr?_ ” Solas asked, wondering if Lavellan could manipulate one of them like she had this one. “ _Ahn eirdyr-?_ ”

**_Are there any rifts nearby? – What about-?_ **

“Solas.”

He turned, only to see Stroud making his way over to him. Anger boiled up within him in an instant. Solas knew exactly why that man was walking over to him, and he wanted no part of it. The man was either going to make some speech about how he was sorry for his loss ( _something Solas was not going to entertain right now_ ), or that he should give up trying to find a way to help her because it was a pointless endeavor. The closer Stroud got, the more mutinous Solas's expression became.

“Solas, I just wanted to-”

It happened so fast, no one had had the time to stop him. Solas had taken the last step, and had hauled off and punched him square in the face. It didn't matter to him what Stroud wanted to say, so long as Solas could shut him up. Stroud was certainly made of stronger stuff than Vael, but he certainly flew back and hit the ground just the same. Lavellan ran up to them before Solas could think about punching the fuck out of Stroud again.

“Damn it, Stroud, I told you it was a bad idea to talk to him right now.” Lavellan scolded Stroud as she helped him up.

“I just thought he should know-” Stroud began.

“I don't care what it is you think I should know. If it's not an idea on how to get Alhasha out of the Fade, I don't want to hear it!” Solas growled, cutting him off. “She wouldn't be stuck on the other side of the Veil if the Grey Wardens had actually used their minds instead of falling into a mass induced panic!”

* * *

 

The change in him was instant. Solas went from extremely angry back to anguished within seconds. He walked away from the area despondently, and sat down on one of the larger stones that had fallen. Camp had already been set up some time before, and night was quickly falling. Varric was afraid the elf was going to do something stupid if they couldn't get to that woman in time.

 ** _“Easy,_** Solas.” Varric said, as if he were trying to get near an injured animal, when Solas had started upon sensing his presence. “You aren't going to hit me too, are you?”

“My apologies, master Tethras.” Solas said, distractedly, before returning his gaze to the fire some distance away. “I'm not much for company or conversation right now.”

“Don't be like that, Chuckles. I'm sure Flint's kick'n ass. She wouldn't want you to give up now.” Varric said, trying to make him feel better. “That's not what's got you all like this, is it?”

“No. She is alive. I can feel that much.” Solas stated, his eyes closed as if that helped him focus. For all Varric knew, it probably did. “It's just…What I said to Stroud before…about her being stuck on the other side of the Veil…I wasn't thinking…It's just…If I hadn't erected the damned thing in the first place, she wouldn't be trapped as she is now.”

“Phhht. Blaming yourself already, Sol-arse?” Sera scoffed, as she sat down next to him abruptly. “Never mind that Birdie does shit before she thinks, or that sometimes life is just a cock-up. I did tell you not to fall on your sword staff thingy, didn't I?”

“That, you did.” Solas replied, a faint smile on his face now.

“Then get **_off_**   it!” Sera declared, punching down with one hand onto her flat open palm. “What **_you_** need are fresh eyes, and some sleep.”

“Perhaps you are right, Sera.” Solas said, with a defeated sigh. “I just…I do not know what else to do.”

The two watched him make his way over to Lavellan. He would need a sleeping drought, some of that weird tea of his, anything that would knock him out. As he was now, he wouldn't be able to get to sleep on his own. Vivienne had just the thing, though Solas was surprised the woman would offer to help him considering how at odds they were with each other most of the time. Biscuit, having escaped Cullen's hold, made to follow Solas into his tent.

Cole appears near Sera, who nearly has a heart attack at that, with the biggest smile Varric has ever seen on him.

“Andraste's tits!” She shrieks, before smacking him. “Don't just show up next to me like that!”

“What's got **_you_** so happy, Kid?” Varric asked, because the smile looks so out of place amongst the solemn expressions that are everywhere.

“She is **_alive.”_** Cole stated, still smiling. “Fighting, so tired, but winning. Won. Those that live will remember. Andraste's ass! How do I get out of here?”

“What do you mean, those that live will remember?” Varric asked, in confusion. “What did she do?”

“She called for help. Allies. Friends. Those that served him, and those that love her. A call to arms, to remember, fight and be free. Spirits love and justice. Demons fear and obey.” Cole stated. “She rose up and set the Fade on Fire.”

* * *

 

Just after the rift closed, In the Fade…

 

The first few demons are gone in a blast of fire, but Hawke knows that isn't going to work for the rest of them. She didn't have enough energy to pull this off, and she didn't have time for what if's. She would need help, and help was something she wasn't sure how to get here. It is only a matter of time before she will be overrun, and she knows it. Barrier spells, and exploding wards, will not be enough.

“I have no **_right_** to ask this of you.” She calls out, as she sends her magic on the offensive. If she had to, she'd set the Fade on fire to get back to him. “I have **_nothing_** to give you, ( _She sent streaks of lightning through the Fade, cutting through several of the demons as she continues on her way towards them_ ) but I need your help now. ( _Ice freezes and Force shatters, destroying more with her next strike_ ) If Fen'Harel…If Solas has ever **_helped_** you, if Hawke or Sulahn'ean has **_ever_** been your friend, ( _She has to quickly throw up a barrier, because fast moving spike covered demons were closing in too quickly_ ) please help me now!”

If she had expected an instant reply, she would be sorely disappointed. Hawke began calling to her magic, willing it strengthen the barrier. The sky only seemed to get more grim, the landscape itself becoming even more desolate than it had appeared before. She didn't know what that meant, just that the demons became even more frenzied as they tried to get to her. Her barrier wouldn't hold for long, despair nearly overwhelming her, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Justice stood beside her now, blue and ethereal, without a trace of Vengeance. When she turned to see him, she couldn't help but notice the others that were making their way towards her. Faith and Doubt stood with him, Love and Desire too. When she looked around her, every spirit or demon that she'd talked with during her time in Arlathan, every being she'd helped in the Fade was here. If that didn't shock her, Flemeth did when she placed her claw gauntlet covered hand on Hawke's other shoulder.

“It's been some time since I'd heard from you, little songbird.” Flemeth stated, with some amusement. “We shall have to have a chat sometime, you and I.”

 ** _“Indeed,_** I had not thought to see you again, Hawke.” Justice admitted, before turning to face the barrier once more. “Anders is well?”

“He is. I think he misses your conversations, but he is **_himself_**   again.” Hawke said, feeling peace and contentment coming from the spirit in question. “Flemeth, think we can pull this off?”

“Child's play.” Flemeth said, with a grin. “Fight now, talk later, yes?”

“But of course.” Hawke laughed.

She lowered the barrier, and Flemeth was off. The woman easily turned into a dragon, flying overhead as she rained fire down upon the lot of them. Justice and the other spirits began charging forward, sending energy wisps of various power towards what would hurt most. For her part, Hawke was busy protecting them. It didn't take nearly as much energy to do, and she needed to be judicious with hers now.

Magic felt strange here, and yet closer than before. More than once, she caught herself able to take out several demons at once, so long as she focused. Her mind tended to be everywhere though, making sure that those that fought for her didn't die in the process. There was even one time she thought she saw Wisdom, and wondered if it was the same one that had been Solas's friend. She could feel Cole reaching out to her, could feel Solas trying to find his way to her, but she could not reach for them in return at the moment.

How long they fought for, she wasn't certain. Channeling her magic into a whip of sorts, she was at least able to make sure it did not destroy an aiding spirit while also being able to focus her magic more specifically into a single spot. Flemeth looked to be having a marvelous time, and Hawke had to admit there was a certain thrill to this. It was easy to get lost in the thrill of battle. It helped to distract her mind from thoughts of how to get back across the Veil, and the panic Solas was projecting.

Even when the fighting was over, she couldn't shake the panic from her mind. Part of it was his, she knew, but there was a very real possibility she might be stuck here permanently. Nightmare had gotten under her skin, had known that Solas's death was something she couldn't handle. Of course she'd be willing to stay to buy them time to escape, but she'd been very selfish not to think of how her decision would affect him. Most of the other spirits left her when the fighting stopped, only Flemeth remained.

“You tend to end up in the **_strangest_   **of places, little songbird.” Flemeth said, with a knowing gaze.

“You know me, leap first, perhaps questions after I'm not dead.” Hawke replied, before cringing at the remains of the rather large spider shaped demon that was beginning to fade away. “Spiders. Why does it always have to be spiders?”

“So, how did you end up here?” Flemeth asked, not commenting on her fears.

“Panicked Grey Wardens were going to summon that Nightmare demon. Corypheus had them all hearing things, and they flipped their shit, had no idea they were binding all their mages to the blighted bastard.” Hawke stated, as the two began walking along. “While we were dealing with some Magister, a blighted dragon showed up, we all got knocked off a bridge, the Inquisitor opened up a portal to the Fade, and here I am. How did you get here?”

“Certainly not the way **_you_**   did, my dear.” Flemeth said, with a chuckle. “I won't be able to get you out that way either, in case you were wondering.”

“But I will be able to get out of here…right?” Hawke asked, trying not to let worry eat at her.

“I see no reason why not.” Flemeth replied.

“Before you go, because I know you're about to, why do you call me little songbird?” Hawke asked. “I've never thought about it before, but things happened, and I haven't seen you since to ask.”

“Perhaps another time.” Flemeth replied, knowingly. “As it is, I have places to be, and you have someone desperately trying to reach you.”

“Just how much do you know, Flemeth?” Hawke asked, teasingly.

“Goodbye, little songbird.” Flemeth replied, openly grinning now, before disappearing from sight.

* * *

 

“Alhasha!” He called out, upon seeing her standing there with her back to him.

She whirled around to face him, looking beyond relieved and like she'd planned to say something, but whatever she'd been about to say was quickly stolen by a kiss. He hadn't thought that sleep would actually work, hadn't thought that he'd be able to find the sleep to try. They had to find some way to get her out of here. As much as he loved the Fade, he knew of the dangers to her here, especially being as she was now. Every emotion he'd felt while trying to find a way to her came bubbling up again, and he wasn't able to stop it this time.

“What were you **_thinking?”_** He asked, when they'd stopped for air, his arms still wrapped around her, before stealing another kiss. “Damn it, woman, what could Nightmare have **_possibly_** shown you that would make you so **_reckless?”_**

 ** _“You_** …It showed me you.” Alhasha admitted, effectively stopping any anger he might have had. She couldn't even look at him as she continued. “You died in my arms, Solas, and I couldn't save you that time. You would try to save me, and Nightmare would kill you, and there would be **_nothing_** I could do. I couldn't…I **_couldn't_** …”

Now he felt like an ass. It was just the same for him. The one fear he couldn't deal with was losing her. Nightmare had fortunately focused on his secondary fear before adding that bit about losing her, and that had been how he'd managed to break its hold. Alhasha had not been as lucky, and in her panic had done this.

“You aren't injured, are you? Do you have food? Water?” Solas asked, beginning to look her over for injuries and such. “Cole said you had your bag, but I had no way of knowing how much you had in it. How did you even manage to defeat the demon army. I saw how many there were before Lavellan pulled me through the rift.”

“I'm fine, **_really._** I had help.” Alhasha admitted, with a nervous chuckle. Solas was still not convinced she wasn't injured in some way. “I may have called to every spirit or ally that we've helped… ** _ever._** There were a lot that answered.”

“That was rather reckless of you.” Solas stated, finally deciding she wasn't too badly injured.

“No more reckless than what I'd already done.” She pointed out, to which he had to concede her point.

“Cole and I are trying to find another way out of here for you. Lavellan wants to go back to Skyhold to look for answers there, and Varric has made it his mission to keep me sane. After what I did, I think he believes it's best if I have someone to keep me focused.” Solas stated, wanting her to know she was not abandoned. “Stroud tried to talk to me while I was…not in my right mind, and I punched him in the face.”

“Where is Skyhold from here?” Alhasha asked, suddenly brightening. Solas doesn't understand why. “Solas, think. What does Morrigan have at Skyhold?”

“That's **_it!”_** Solas exclaimed, picking her up to spin her around for a moment before setting her back down. He began looking around for something as a land marker. “Head towards the floating tower on the horizon. Once you make it there, I'll find another land-marker. We **_will_** get you out of here, I will bring you **_home.”_**

“Home.” She sighed, as she held onto him, her face buried in his chest. “I rather like the sound of that.”

“Good, because when I get you back, we're not leaving that room for at least a week.” Solas declared, and was rewarded with her laughter as she held him to her.

* * *

 

In the days to follow, she discovered that all she had to do was think of something and it existed. Hawke had thought that being here in the Fade physically would have prevented some of that, but it had not. She took advantage of this by creating her dream bath. One does not like to walk around with demon grim plastered to their person, so that meant shower first, and then bath. Hawke didn't know how long she was going to be stuck in the Fade as she was, best to make it as pleasant as possible.

Solas's visits marked the days for her, or rather the nights when he could dream. Each visit was both happy and sad, because it meant another day she'd been trapped in the Fade, another day she had been separated from him. She didn't want to tell him, but her food was running low. Even she had not prepared for being trapped anywhere like this without the ability to forage for more food. She wasn't even sure she could eat anything from the Fade.

His slowly dishearteningly grim looks made her think he'd had this thought too, but they don't talk here. One of them was going to have to talk about it, or hurry up and find a way out of here, because it wasn't going to get any better. Flemeth came to visit often, but she was never there when Solas was, and Hawke began to wonder at this. The woman always knew more than she would say, but it was untelling what she was after this time.

“Why does he seek you out, I wonder?” Flemeth asked, as way of greeting, appearing just ahead of her.

“If you're asking, does that mean you already know?” Hawke asked, with a bit of a grin.

“I have known for some time, Girl, what you would grow up to be.” Flemeth revealed, moving to walk with her now.

“If you know what I grew up to be, why do you not know that as well?” Hawke asked, in confusion. “What did you know I would grow up to be?”

“There has not been a new Evanuris for many an Age, and yet here you are.” Flemeth remarked. “A wisp of a spirit traveled through the world, looking for enough power to bring itself back into being, and it found it. However, she found that she could not touch it. The magic was already bound, and yet not. It was easy enough to keep tabs on wild magic like that, and to my surprise, you show up at my doorstep many centuries later. It would have been easy to get you to give the magic to me then, but my curiosity won out again. I knew what you could grow up to be, but I wanted to see it for myself, and now here you are, Evanuris at last.”

“Flemeth, I'm not even sure what that means half the time.” Hawke admitted.

“Why do you think your magic works the way it does?” Flemeth asked, inquisitively. “If you can think it, you can do it, within reason or consequence. That is the phrase, is it not? And yet you limit yourself now. Why is it that you don't simply think about a door, and open it?”

“Ugh. I'm an idiot.” Hawke groused, but recovered quickly. “What does this have to do with Solas? Why are you so fixated on what I am to him?”

“Dear girl, that Aveline woman may be like a second mother to you, but ** _I_** have watched your magic grow over the centuries, watched **_you_** grow into it.” Flemeth explained. “Since I could not **_take_** your magic even before your creation, I wanted to guide it, and so I did. In many ways, **_you_**   are more my daughter than even Morrigan. Should I not be concerned with why The Dread Wolf sniffs around such magic, why he has **_marked_**   the one who wields it?”

“Awe, Flemeth, I had no idea you cared quite so much…for my magic.” Hawke teased. Flemeth laughs with her. “If I told you he makes me happy, would it appease your curiosity?”

“Before I was that wisp of a being, I knew him to get bored easily. Women were mere playthings to him, and **_yet_** he has focused on you for longer than I have ever known him to focus on a single woman.” Flemeth noted. “That he makes you happy is an added bonus, but it is **_good_**   to see that he has grown up a little. I had worried that he would **_remain_** arrogant and prideful till something or someone killed him for it.”

“Oh he's still arrogant and prideful.” Hawke said, with a good-natured laugh. “It's just better placed now.”

“Indeed.” Flemeth said, with a smirk. “Forgive an old woman for her meddling. I needed to make sure you were truly _esem or Fen'Harel_ , and that he genuinely cared for you, but now it's time to get you back to him, don't you think?”

“Flemeth…Exactly what **_kind_**   of meddling have you been doing these past few days?” Hawke asked, only to hear her echoed laughter good-naturedly as the woman in question disappeared from sight.

* * *

 

Back at Skyhold, the mood of the place was a lot more somber than anything else. After having found Alhasha in the Fade that first night, he could not get to her again. She was alive, worried but alive, so he tried not to panic. According to Morrigan, Alhasha had always been a source of amusement for Flemeth, and the woman was choosing now of all times to shield her from him. He could not understand why Flemeth would choose to meddle now, unless there was something new about Alhasha that she was trying to find out, though what that was he did not know.

So, Morrigan and Solas stood before the El'u'vi'an she kept in a side room near the gardens. Lavellan had been called away, but Varric had chosen to stay behind this time. He was serious about keeping Solas sane…or as sane as Solas could be. Solas had resolved to use the El'u'vi'an to get to the Crossroads, and from there find a way to get to Alhasha. However, before he could step through the mirror itself, Morrigan stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“When we first met, Hawke introduced me as one of Flemeth's daughters.” Morrigan observed. “You **_know_** my mother.”

“I knew who she was before.” Solas corrected. “I do not know the woman she has become.”

“To be known as one of Flemeth's daughters is **_not_** the boon one would **_think_** it to be.” Morrigan stated, as if this were a warning to him. “Long ago, I discovered the secret to how Flemeth manages her immortality. I discovered that when Flemeth's daughter becomes a certain age, she takes **_possession_**   of that body as if it were her own, because it then **_becomes_** her own.”

“What does this have to do with Alhasha?” Solas asked, annoyed with the witch, but unable to ignore her warning.

“Flemeth views Hawke as another **_daughter,_** and while ** _I_**   thwarted the woman's efforts to take possession of my body, **_she_**   might not be so lucky.” Morrigan warned. “The woman you meet might not be Hawke, at least, not completely.”

“You wait to tell me this **_now?!”_**   Solas shouted, wrenching his arm away from the woman. “That **_woman_**   has kept Alhasha in a **_literal_**   black fog for **_days!_**   I haven't been able to reach her at all during that time, and you've just been **_sitting_**   on this bit of information till now? What were you waiting for, a fucking **_cookie?”_**

“Tis **_not_** like you could have done anything about it anyway.” Morrigan scoffed, incensed by his anger. “This is a woman that has had **_Ages_**   to perfect her magic.”

“Shows how little you know your mother.” Solas growled, before making his way to the mirror. “So **_obsessed_**   with her idea of justice, twisted as it has become over the years, that she would **_steal_**   the bodies of her children, and you call that **_perfecting her magic_**. What you **_know_**   about your mother could barely fill a thimble.”

He activated the El'u'vi'an with a flick of his wrist, shocking Morrigan into silence. He does not wait for either of them to step forward before he walks into the gateway provided. It closes behind him, and he is immediately presented with the crossroads. Light fog blankets the ground, El'u'vi'an marking the way to other places, other worlds, other planes of existence. Solas ignores them all, intent on finding the one that will lead him to Alhasha, deciding that he will deal with Flemeth later if any harm had befallen his nas'falon.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, back in the room Solas had left them in, Morrigan's eyebrows were still somewhere around her hairline. She had not expected the quiet elf to know how to command the power needed to activate the El'u'vi'an. He had always seemed unassuming and gentle, but that was not the side of himself she'd just seen. He was angry and vengeful, protective and powerful, and Morrigan began to wonder just who it was that Hawke had attached herself to. Then again, she should not have assumed anything, considering that she knew he had known her mother.

She turned to Varric, who looked way too happy about all of this, and asked. “Just how old is he anyway?”

“Oh no, I'm not even going to attempt to touch that one.” Varric stated, raising his hands in surrender.

“You **_will_**   tell me what you know, little man.” Morrigan threatened, making to advance on him to exact her information.

“Little man? You think after the shit I've seen, that insult is going to intimidate me? You've got another thing coming.” Varric scoffed. “I've heard more intimidating insults from toddlers.”

“That twas **_not_**   an insult, but a **_warning.”_** Morrigan clarified, igniting a ball of lightning in her hand. “You will **_tell_**   me what I want to know, starting with how that elf knows my mother. You will **_then_**   tell me who he is, how old he is, and what he is doing with Hawke.”

“Oh? You want me to tell you what he's doing with Flint? Is that so? You sure about that, Witch?” Varric asked, with a mischievous grin. “I don't think your delicate sensibilities could handle the things I've seen them **_doing.”_**

 


	34. From the Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan's news rocks Solas, but having Flemeth question him confuses him more. He's known that Hawke and Flemeth are at least aware of each other, but he had not realized just how much, and now he has to worry about whether his old friend has designs on his nas'falon.

Chapter 34

 

Of all the irresponsible things a person could do, and that woman had chosen to withhold such information? He'd had to get of there before he gave himself the chance to kill that woman. She was one of Alhasha's friends, and he was fairly certain the woman would not appreciate him killing one of her friends. One of the El'u'vi'an sparks to life just to his left in front of him, and he moved to it without hesitation, all thoughts of that foul friend of hers forgotten.

Alhasha came stumbling out of that particular El'u'vi'an only a moment later, eyes blinking at the changed lighting. When her eyes cleared, she saw him standing there with apprehension, and moved instantly to pull him into an embrace. A pained look crossed her features when he'd stopped her from coming close to him, but he needed to be sure. After the information Morrigan had just thrust upon him, he needed to make sure Mythal wasn't riding Alhasha's coattails as it were. Understanding dawns in her eyes when he began using his magic to see if she was herself, deducing that he had wanted to make sure she was okay first.

“ _Ir abelas, Lath'in_. I was told some troubling information, and I needed to make sure you were yourself.” Solas said, softly. “I was not able to get to you after that first day. There was no way to know what had happened to you. You were surrounded by a black fog that I could not enter…I was worried for you.”

“What are you _**talking**_ about, Solas? I didn't see a black fog. I saw you every night, and…” Alhasha insisted, but then her voice trailed off. “…So _**that's**_ what she meant…Flemeth apologized to me for…well…meddling.”

“What did she do? Are you sure you're alright?” Solas asked, beginning to check her over again, thinking he'd missed something. _“Lath'in,_ if she has attached her soul to yours…”

“We just…talked…after kick'n a lot of demon ass.” Alhasha insisted, humming when his fingers found their way into her hair. There was no way he was going to be able to ever resist her hair. “I saw you every day, just…always slightly ahead of me…and you _**never**_ said anything! How could you not say anything?”

“I was not _**there,** Lath'in.”_ Solas reiterated.

“So she…?” Alhasha asked, and then blinked at him owlishly before descending into giggles. “She acted like my mother!…She was worried…about your _**treatment**_ of me!…Oh, this is too good…”

 _“Alhasha…”_ Solas lightly admonished, gently pulling her into his arms.

Despite his previous reservations about her being herself, he'd wanted nothing more than to have her in his arms again. He'd missed her, and though she had been able to see him in at least some way or another, he'd not caught a glimpse of her in days. She looked worn out, which would probably explain the giggling, and the dark circles under her eyes warned him of the little sleep she'd gotten while gone. While there were many things he wanted to say and do to this woman, it looked like sleep was going to win out against him.

 _“Alhasha…”_ Solas insisted, pulling away just slightly enough to see her face. She grinned at him sleepily. “ _Era. Ar shor ea amahn melahn na thena._ ”

_**Sleep. I will be here when you wake** _

“M'kay.” She said, with a sleepy smile, and rested her head once again against his chest.

He quickly picked her up, and sat down on a simple bench nearby. Her breath tickles his neck as she sleeps, but it is just one more thing that grounds him there. For a moment, Solas does nothing but hold her to him, content to breathe in the scent of her hair, having needed this more than he'd realized till now. The El'u'vi'an activates once more, and though he knew this moment would come, he is not prepared for it. There is a part of him that remembers the woman he had once called sister, but there is another part that is furious against the one that had kept him from his nas'falon, and he does not know which part will win out.

“It has been too long, old friend.” Flemeth said, as a greeting to him.

“Indeed it has.” Solas replied, though he did not look up at her. His eyes are on the sleeping woman he holds. “Tell me, what brings you to me now.”

“She holds the power of an _Evanuris.”_ Flemeth explained. “How can such a thing be possible?”

“So, _**that**_ is what you wish.” Solas realized, as he looked to her now. “Your method of maintaining your immortality, after what was done to you, is imperfect, _Mythal._ You seek a vessel, one that can hold the power of an _Evanuris_ without decaying, and you think _Alhasha_ is your answer. And why not? She already holds the power of an _Evanuris,_ a fruit too tempting not to take. Is that it?”

“You think me so callous as to sacrifice my daughters, be they blood or not?” Flemeth asked, not really answering him, but he doesn't need an answer from her.

“Maybe not the woman that you were before.” Solas allowed. “The woman that you are now, however, is one who would do _**anything**_ to achieve their vengeance.”

“Not so long ago, you would have done anything to achieve your goal. Not so long ago, you _**did**_ do just such a thing.” Flemeth stated. “This is **_no_** different.”

“That is true. I would have. I did, and it was a mistake I aim to correct.” Solas replied, before shaking his head. “It is not one I am willing to make again.”

“You would not give her to me?” Flemeth asked, amused despite her obvious annoyance. “Such sweet music she must play, old friend. Why not let me hear the tune?”

“That mistake almost cost me everything. It has put her in danger time and time again, and still she stays. You ask such a thing, as if it would not change her, as if you would not be in control or the voice that whispers in her mind.” Solas insisted, tightening his grip on Alhasha as if he could pull her any closer to him. “Whatever my regrets, whatever my mistakes in this life, I will not let this be one of them. You can not have her, _Mythal._ Do not ask me again. She is **_mine.”_**

“She is yours?” Flemeth asked, grinning wider as she seemed to be taking even more amusement from this than before. “So she is. What of you then? If she belongs to you, to whom do you belong? Or is she simply property? Are you up for sale then, _Fen'Harel?”_

Before Solas could even begin to think of a retort to that, sudden pain mixed with pleasure shot through him from the crook of his neck, and he realizes that Alhasha has _**bit**_ him!

 _“ **Mine**.”_ Alhasha growled, sleep clinging to her voice, when she lets go. Flemeth's laughter instantly fills the crossroads.

When she calmed down, Flemeth simply smiled at him, and said. “You can rest easy, old friend. The girl has nothing to fear from me. She never did.”

* * *

 

Morrigan had been trying to whittle information out of him for the last half hour, making good on her threat to attack him with her magic. He had to hand it to her, that witch was relentless, but there was no way in all of Thedas he was spilling the beans on this one. Varric hadn't even budged to tell Lavellan when she came fishing for confirmation on her own theory, no matter how curious he was to know what her theory actually was. There were some things you just didn't do. Spilling the beans on this kind of secret was one of them, though he wasn't sure which one he was more afraid of, considering he knew what either of them would do to him.

Finally, the mirror activated again, inturrupting yet another one of Morrigan's attempts to threaten him into revealing what he knew. Solas stepped out of the rippling mirror, holding Flint to his chest protectively as he carried her out. For all the world, the damned mage looked like something out of a story book, everything from the way he held her to the way he moved purposefully through the room, completely ignoring the new magically scortched stonework. Flint was fast asleep, her head buried in Solas's shirt. It didn't look like she was any worse for wear, but what Morrigan had said before had him worried.

“Chuckles,…is she…?” Varric asked, not quite sure how to phrase the question without sounding like an ass.

“She is herself, master Tethras.” Solas explained, as he continued walking towards the door, and then paused to add. “Apparently, the woman wanted to make sure of my…intentions…towards _Alhasha.”_ The elf started walking away again, and Varric followed. “She kept _Alhasha_ from me, made her think I was able to visit her, and asked after my treatment of her. Flemeth is no longer the woman I used to know, but still…it is surprising that she displayed such protectiveness. The woman she was before protected what was dear to her with a fierceness reserved for dragons. Perhaps the woman I used to know survived more so than I had originally realized.”

“And the bite mark?” Varric asked, chuckling when Solas half-heartedly glared at him.

 _“Alhasha's_ claim of ownership.” Solas remarked, after a moment, but did not explain further.

Varric just stood there for a moment, before laughing, wondering what the story was to that.

* * *

 

 _“ **Now**_ do you get it?” Varric asked, looking over at a stunned to silence Morrigan. “It's _**always**_ like that with those two. Maker's Balls, I really _**should**_ have bet Orzammar.”

The dwarf left her to her thoughts, but she found that she could not leave it be. This man was much more than he had appeared to be, and she would be a fool to underestimate him again. He could very well be the answer to how to deal with her mother, and she could not let such an opportunity slip through her fingers. Morrigan watched as he moved throughout Skyhold as if he knew the paths better than the people who tread them, with an ease she had seen nowhere else. People stopped long enough to express their happiness that Hawke was able to make her way back to him, which he accepted with a humbled grace as he continued to make his way.

He disappeared for a moment, only to reappear just ahead of her, only without Hawke in his arms. Morrigan was confused by what he was looking at, until she realized he was looking straight at her. It was certainly a shock, as she thought her skills at hiding in the shadows were enough to mask her from most everyone if she so chose. That he had heard her at all made her wonder just how long he had known she was following him. The man clearly was not happy with being followed, if his scowl was anything to go by.

“What did you hope to gain by following me, Morrigan?” Solas asked, half demanding, looking most displeased. “Your mother does not know you are here, if that is your concern.”

“Though I am glad to hear such news, tis not why I followed you.” Morrigan admitted, with mixed feelings of relief and apprehension. “You hold knowledge I wish to possess…that which will free me from my mother.”

“Weren't you bragging to me, not moments ago, that you had _**already**_ achieved such?” Solas scoffed. “You are like a child, _**whining**_ about the hand dealt to you, _**demanding**_ the world while understanding nothing of it. The knowledge I possess would be **_lost_** on you. Go back to the Wilds, and play with your dolls, foolish _shem'lan.”_

“My mother is more of a danger than you could possibly understand!” Morrigan declared, angrily.

“I know all too _**well**_ the danger your mother can be, Girl, do not _**mock**_ me.” Solas stated, speaking to her as if she were an unruly student, and turned to leave.

“She will take my _**son**!”_ Morrigan all but shouted, stopping Solas in an instant. “ _ **I** _ may have broken free from her clutches, tis true, but _**Kieran**_ has not. Till he is old enough to decide, she can influence his thoughts, guide his actions. _**He**_ is the only thing that matters to me, and I _**will**_ not lose him to her. I have worked too hard all these years to keep him safe to risk losing him now.”

“I am sorry…truly…You seek knowledge without understanding, and that in itself is more dangerous than anything you perceive Flemeth to be. You could lose Kieran to that very pursuit, if you are not careful.” Solas warned, his voice now filled with regret, not unkindly. “I can not give you what you seek, but I will do what I can for you son.”

“Thank you, Solas. Tis all I can truly ask.” Morrigan said, gratefully.

“Do not thank me yet. What may need to be done could come at great cost to both you and your son.” Solas warned. “You need to understand that possibility.”

“I will take his cost as well as my own.” Morrigan insisted, without hesitation.

Solas regarded her for a moment, before nodding. “Very well. You will know when you have what you seek.”

With that, he turned and left her to her thoughts. She had lived with her mother for long enough to understand a cryptic message when she heard one. She would have to have patience while he did what he could for her son, and she wouldn't even know if he'd managed anything till Flemeth made her move to take Kieran. With that in mind, she turned and made her way to the gardens, intent on seeing her son. The lad would most likely be playing with that mabari pup of Hawke's, and Morrigan needed the solace that only seeing her son safe could provide.

* * *

 

Solas leaned back against the door as soon as he'd closed it shut. He'd been wound so tight these last few days, he'd not had much in the way of proper sleep either. There was still so much to do, even now that he had her back. Flemeth poking around things, a little more closely than she had been, was not something he was prepared to deal with, though he should have been. That she had asked him for Alhasha, that she would **_actually_** think to use his nas'falon as a vessel…No danger indeed.

That woman's eyes had told more than her words ever would. She'd been jealous of the powers Alhasha had come to possess, no doubt having seen the magic sleeping as it had been for the last eight thousand years. The spell he'd been cornered into casting had been after Mythal's murder, and so she'd circled around the wild magic that Alhasha was, waiting for a chance to take it. If that were so then, why hadn't she just take it from her when they'd first met? Had her magic known instinctively to protect itself even when the young girl that Alhasha had been had not?

Too many questions that needed answers, none of which he was likely to find if he asked Flemeth at all. Whether it was her or Mythal in control, he knew both understood how to answer a question without really answering it. His lies of omission could blanket Skyhold if they were thread. They would operate in a similar manner, because they knew it would grate at him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself in an effort not to project his magic all over Skyhold, and tried instead to think about this logically.

He'd known Flemeth had been aware of Alhasha, since the day after he'd met (re-met?) her in that cell, he just hadn't realized the depth of the awareness. Maybe he had, and it just hadn't clicked. Even Varric knew that Flemeth was Mythal, maybe only because Alhasha had told him, but that didn't seem like something one would slip into casual conversation. Alhasha moved in the bed, grumbling when her arms came up empty in her sleeping search for him. One of his hands moved to the place at the junction of his neck where she'd bitten him, as he thought back to that moment.

When he'd been a child, his mother had told him stories of times past. Sure, they may technically have been ' _the first of their people'_ in a sense, but there had been others before. Achieving immortality for their people had made them something 'other', but before all that, there had been his mother with her stories. She'd spoken of wild magic and instinct, of the bonding of souls,…of the bite. He'd grown up hearing such stories, and it had been one of the hidden things he'd added to the spell to find his nas'falon…when he'd thought no such woman could exist.

It had been his mother's wish to bring that kind of magic…that kind of passion…back to their people, and he'd wanted to honour her. Now, he realized, he'd done more than that. Alhasha utilized magic in a way he had never seen before, trusted her instincts even in the face of oppressive forces. Her magic literally clung to him like he belonged to it, something he'd never bothered to try to explain; other than to marvel at how wonderful it felt. That she had claimed him as hers, the bite an ancient claim of bonding, was proof enough for him that somehow the secret wishes and last hopes he'd included as part of the spell to find his nas'falon had come true in ways he never could have imagined.

Mythal had grown up hearing the same stories he had. She must know by now what Alhasha truly was. He was letting his thoughts get carried away from him again, he realized. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, and looked to the beautiful woman sleeping in the bed. She was safe, having somehow survived her ordeal, and that was what he would focus on.

* * *

 

_Just moments before…_

 

There is a shift in the air before she's aware of it, as if the atmosphere is charged with magic. On second thought, she thinks, more than likely it is. Whispers and exclaimations soon follow, and Cassandra finds herself slowly turning towards the source of the disturbance. Solas walks calmly through the courtyard, but she had to say this was the first time she had ever seen him quite like **_this._** The man looks like he'd stepped directly out of one of her fairy tale romance novels, full of regality and grace.

He does not pay attention to the stares he is receiving, may not even be noticing them, too focused on the woman in his arms to pay them any mind. When someone does stop him to express their congratulations, he accepts with a humbled air, surely realizing with every congratulations just how truly blessed he is to be holding the woman in his arms again. To see such love was truly a sight to behold, and yet…there was something puzzling her. Every so often, she would see someone kneeling, as if acknowledging some unknown authority Solas possessed.

She had to acknowledge, yet again, that she knew very little about Solas' past. For all she knew, he very well **_could_** hold such an authority, though the odds of having such authority while being able to hide it from Leliana seemed unlikely. It was always an elf she saw kneeling, but she tabled such puzzling thoughts aside for the time being. For the moment, it was simply nice to see something as romantic as this. As she watched Solas's progress, she wondered if Varric had witnessed this as well, and if he would be able to describe the scene with the justice it deserved.

“Those two keep this up, I'm **_never_** going to run out of writing material.” Varric mused, as he walked over to her. “You should have seen the way he lit into Morrigan earlier.”

“Sometimes that witch needs to be knocked down a peg or two.” Cassandra said, with a snort, moving to sit on one of the wooden benches nearby. “You should hear her during War Room Meetings, always vague and unsettling.”

“I suppose growing up with Flemeth for a mother leaves one with certain built in defense mechanisms after a while.” Varric acknowledged. “She actually tried to set me on fire a minute ago, to get me to reveal what I knew about Solas.”

“Ha! Why did I not think of that?” Cassandra remarked, with a bit of laughter. “So, why did Solas need to light into Morrigan?”

“You know she's one of Flemeth's daughters, a Witch of the Wilds, right?” Varric asked. Cassandra nodded, and the dwarf continued. “See, apparently Flemeth keeps her immortality by possessing her daughters, only Morrigan got out of it.”

“Why would Solas be upset by such news?” Cassandra asked, trying to puzzle it out for herself.

“What he didn't know, what I doubt even Flint knows, is that Flemeth views Flint like another daughter.” Varric explained, sounding a bit hesitant. “And the woman has had Flint trapped in a black fog this whole time that Solas couldn't break through. At the possiblility that she wouldn't be herself when he found her again? I'm surprised Morrigan's still alive after telling him something like that.”

“Is she? Herself, I mean.” Cassandra asked, her eyes wide with shock. “She _**must**_ be! Why else would he be walking through here like that?”

“Solas says she is, and I suppose he'd be the one to know.” Varric acknowledged, before adding with a bit of a chuckle. “According to Solas, the woman asked after his intentions regarding Flint.”

“Just how many mothers does this woman have?” Cassandra asked, incredulously, making Varric laugh all the more for it.

* * *

 

Hawke woke feeling weak, but well rested. Biscuit was by her side, sleeping contently, occassionally kicking the covers. He was growing so fast, having happily taken down possessed Grey Wardens not but days ago, though he still had quite a few years before he would be as big as BarkSpawn had been. She went to snuggle with him, but that was when she noticed the arm wrapped snugly around her, and nearly laughed outloud when she turned her head slightly to look at him. Solas held her to him, his face completely entrenched in her hair. She couldn't help but snort at the sight of it, wondering if that was how he was going to die; death by hair entrenchment.

“mmm…I can feel you shaking with your silent laughter, _Lath'in.”_ Solas murmured, sleep still clinging to his voice. “What has you so amused?”

“I'm imagining how you'll die.” She admitted, feeling his surprise as he moved to rest over her on his forearms. “Death by hair entrenchment. I'm convinced I'm going to wake up to find that my hair has either eaten you, you've strangled yourself with it, or tried to breath it in. Something ridiculous like that.”

“A death where I am surrounded by you?” Solas asked, pretending to ponder. “That does not sound so bad. Maybe then, I will even get the chance to see about this Maker of yours. I'm sure that as many times as you have nearly died, you've put in a good word for me.”

He was teasing, she knew, but she blushed anyway, because she had in fact done just that; or tried to. Her face must have given her away, or her emotions one, because Solas grinned after a moment.

“It speaks well of your character that you would think to do such a thing  _Lath'in.”_ Solas said, as he began kissing along her neck. “However,…my most immediate concern…is how much _**trouble** …_y _ou_ are in…and what to do about it.”

“Trouble?” Hawke asked, in indignation and confusion. “I nearly _**died!**_ Got locked up in the Fade for days, and everything! What could I _**possibly**_ have done to get in trouble?”

“Do you really have to _**ask,** Lath'in?”_ Solas asked, stopping his kisses along her neck, looking up at her with a wicked grin that could rival her own. She gulped at the sight of it. “You had Lavellan _**pull**_ me from the Fade to protect me, nearly _**died**_ fighting against an army of demons, and got yourself stuck in a trap of Flemeth's making.”

“Trap of Flemeth's making?” She asked, trying to stall. He looked like he was about to devour her.

“Do you not remember, _Alhasha?”_ Solas asked, teasingly. Oh he was having way too much fun with this, it seemed. “Flemeth kept you from me, displayed an illusion to keep you occupied with catching up to me. I could not get to you till you got to the crossroads. I was afraid she had hidden herself within you. She made her interest in you and your magic quite clear to me after you fell asleep.”

“Is that why there's a bitemark on your shoulder now?” Hawke asked, continuing her stalling. Apparently that was the **_wrong_** question to ask, because his grin grew even more.

“No. That is all you, _Lath'in.”_ He revealed, chuckling at her shock. “It seemed **_someone_** felt the need to initiate the claiming bond when Flemeth asked if I was for sale. You bit me, and declared me yours.”

“The…what?…” Hawke asked, instantly embarrassed. Solas looked ready to devour her, and as she backed up a bit to sit up, he moved with her; kissing along her collarbone, up her neck and along her jawline. “I…I don't…I don't remember…doing that…”

“That may be…” Solas replied, smiling against her skin. “…but do it, you did.”

“So…how much trouble am I in?” She asked, giving up her stalling as a bad job, repeating the words he'd spoken to her not so long ago.

“So much, _Lath'in,_ you have no idea.” Solas replied, sealing it with a small kiss. “But not just yet. You need food, after what you've been through. I am sure a nice hot bath would go a long way to relax your body, and there are many who would wish to see that you are well. It will give me time to set up all the _**trouble**_ I have in store for you.”

“That's cheating! I made yours up as I went!” Hawke declared, before sticking her tongue out at him, surprised when he playfully bit it.

“That is one of our differences, _Lath'in.”_ Solas remarked, before stealing a kiss. “While you like to make it up as you go, _ **I** _ like to plan.”

* * *

 

Lavellan was trying to talk Cole down in the courtyard. The spirit boy was frantic, and after seeing what had happened at Adamant, she couldn't blame him. Seeing how the demons had been bound, and made to hurt, must have triggered something in the boy. The demons had been spirits first, Lavellan knew that, and she wondered if perhaps that was what bothered him. However, she was never going to get an understandable word out of him if she couldn't get him to calm down.

“What's going on here?” Hawke asked, running up to them.

“Thank the Creators, Hawke! I could use your help. I'm not sure what's wrong.” Lavellan admitted, at her wits end. “I can't get him calm enough to find out.”

“Cole, look at me.” Hawke insisted. The boy looked to her, his eyes frantic. “We can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong.”

“I _**have**_ been!” Cole insisted, before he began pacing. “I need blood magic!”

“Why, pray tell, do you need blood magic?” Hawke asked, lightly.

“So that I can be bound, like the demons at Adamant, so that I can't **_hurt_** anyone, so that no one can **_make_** me hurt anyone.” Cole insisted.

“ ** _Absolutely not!_** ” Both Lavellan and Hawke declared simultaniously.

“But you _**like**_ spirits!” Cole insisted, pleadingly. It was really hard to tell him no when he had that puppy dog face. “I don't want to _**hurt**_ anyone. Why is that _**bad**?”_

“There has to be something else!” Hawke insisted, making the boy cower just a little. She calmed down at the sight of that. “Cole, even if I could, I would not do that to you. **_Lavellan_** would not do that do you. Being bound like that takes away everything that you are, everything that makes you **_you._** Do you understand?”

“I wouldn't be able to hurt anyone.” Cole pleaded.

“You wouldn't be able to **_help_** anyone either.” Lavellan pointed out, thankful to hawke for the help. “Is that what you want?”

“No, but I don't what to hurt anyone either. There are mages who will try to make me.” Cole insisted, and then with a much lower voice. “There are mages here who have thought about it.”

“Maybe there's another way.” Hawke said, thoughtfully. “A way to make you safe, without having to bind you. Ask Solas. I'm sure if anyone knows of a way, he would.”

Cole thought for a moment, before he replied. “Yes. He will be able to help. Thank you.”

He disappeared before Lavellan could ask him anything more.

“Glad to have you back, Hawke.” Lavellan said, before hugging the woman.

“It is good to be back.” Hawke admitted, when they let go. “I shouldn't have listened to Nightmare…I just…”

“Hawke, you will never have to explain that to me.” Lavellan stated, simply, and Hawke paused. “If Cullen had been brought with us into the Fade, and I thought he would die for me, I would have done the same thing you did.”

“That does make me feel a bit better, though I doubt Solas will leave it at that.” Hawke admitted, with a blush. “I'm not sure what trouble he's thinking up, but considering what I did to him for trying to break the bond, I can only imagine.”

“We never got the chance to talk about what happened in Kirkwall.” Lavellan said, regretfully. “The trip to Adamant happened as soon as you got back, and with everything that happened…”

“You will want to sit down.” Hawke said, softly, motioning her to sit beside her on a bench in the courtyard.

Lavellan listened as Hawke began to explain what had happened after she left Skyhold for Kirkwall. Vael had tortured Solas, and in return Solas had tried to break the bond in order to protect Hawke. She described seeing him hanging up by chains at the wrists, the state he had been in, him telling her to leave him there. She could feel every bit of torture done to Solas, because he'd been unable to keep it from her after Vael pushed him so far. But if seeing him wounded as he had been on the ship had been bad, seeing the way he had looked across the battlefield had been worse.

Lavellan could see it in her eyes, Hawke was haunted by the state Solas had been in when she'd seen how close to death he was. He'd been trying to say his goodbye's, and only Hawke's magic had kept him from death. How she did that, Hawke wasn't very clear on, having passed out from the experience. Eventually, much to Lavellan's embarrassment, Hawke lightly explained the _'trouble'_ Solas had been in. When Hawke then explained what Solas had said just moments ago, Lavellen laughed outright.

“No **_wonder_** you're worried!” Lavellan said, still laughing. “That man is going to **_devour_** you, but at least you'll die happy!”

“I **_did_** set a dangerous precedent with that, I'm afraid.” Hawke admitted, laughing now as well.

“So, do I get to know what's so amusing?” Varric asked, as he strolled up to greet them. “It's good to see you out and about, Flint. Chuckles has been insufferable.”

“I'm sure he has been.” Hawke chuckled, with a sigh. “Insidently, we were laughing about how I…made him see _'the error of his ways_ ', and now that I've done something just as drastic, what I have to worry about.”

Varric suddenly burst out laughing. “Well, he certainly doesn't waste time once he's set on something.”

“You should tell her about him carrying her through Skyhold.” Lavellan insisted, enthusiastically. She loved this story, and was sorry she had missed actually seeing it. “Varric insists Solas was like some prince straight out of the stories, the way he carried you as if no other woman existed in his eyes.”

“Are **_you_** going to tell it, or are you going to let **_me?”_** Varric teased.

* * *

 

He knew Alhasha would be spending this time with some of the others. In fact, he'd counted on it. They would distract her with stories and laughter, allowing him time to complete his work. Solas could only hope that she enjoyed being in trouble as much as he did, and what he had planned for her. What he had not counted on were all the interruptions.

Creating pockets of space took extreme concentration, which is one of the reasons why he'd been surprised that 'their' room was so stable. He'd been stumbling ass drunk when he'd made it, and as such it should have crumbled in on itself long ago. Varric came by to let him know that Morrigan had been viciously trying to get information out of him, something Solas was not surprised about. Cole came by asking for blood magic to bind him, reluctantly asking if there were other options when Solas refused.

After Cullen had stopped by to ask about a report of the events of Kirkwall, seeing as how they'd not had time to give that particular report ( _not that Solas would be doing that_ ), Solas gave it up as a bad job. They could not leave for a getaway, and so he had hoped to create a space just for that purpose, so that she would have somewhere to go to should she need it. 'Their' room was not a secret, at least not anymore, and while it was still hard to get to, people could.

Only then did he realize that there was already a place he could take her to, one that no one in Skyhold knew how to find. He is certain someone would have mentioned finding such a magical place, and yet no one had. Thus secured, he went in search of the pocket of space that had already been created. He sees Alhasha with Varric and Lavellan, hears them sharing stories together, and smiles to himself.

It is good to hear her laughter again. After what happened on his way to Kirkwall, she'd been afraid he would leave her. After what had happened in the Fade at Adamant, Solas had been afraid he would never see her again. What a pair they made, Solas thought; as he made his way across the outskirts of the courtyard. He could not help but wink at her when he caught her eye, a blush from her and the others were laughing again, and he smiles again.

The place he finds is technically part of the battlements, near where the acquisition requests were kept now. It more than suits the purpose he now needs it for, and he sets about getting things ready. He hadn't been kidding before; If he has his way, they won't be interrupted for a week. It is more than just what he wants, knowing that the two of them have been worn thin by the events they'd endured. With everything that had just happened, his possessiveness of her is nearly overwhelming, though it is a comfort to know that she feels the same.

When he finished setting up what he could without leaving the space, Solas was forced to do just that. The place did not have food, though there were ways of preserving it, and so Solas left. The Herald's Rest was busy as usual, but many stopped to talk with him, something he was not use to happening. Finally, Iron Bull called out above the others, clearing a path and giving him much needed space. A few well place glares, and the rest got the idea.

“Sometimes they forget they learn more if they watch from the sidelines.” Iron Bull remarked with a smirk. “How else is the story suppose to continue if they keep interrupting with questions?”

“Should I be glad that _Alhasha_ and I are entertainment?” Solas asked, a bit amused at it all.

“It would be worse if there were _**no**_ entertainment at all.” Iron Bull replied, to which Solas had to agree. “Be thankful that at least there is Lavellan and Cullen to take some of the heat off of you. People are used to me and Dorian, so no help there. Varric and Cassandra are still not quite a thing yet, and Blackwall wont make a move on Josephine. Some troubled past crap. So…entertainment and bets abound.”

“I'm sure.” Solas remarked.

“Care to settle a few bets then?” Iron Bull asked, unable to keep from grinning as Solas shook his head in slight iritation and amusement.

“Alright, but only if I can get what I need here at the same time.” Solas agreed, albeit reluctantly. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/12/2018 
> 
> Will be posting next week, with luck. Working on this particular chapter has not been easy with the holiday season underway. Working on this one, and my Hawke's Legacy, which I hope to post soon.


	35. Trouble or Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will this be the trouble she expects, or the vacation he's planned? Maybe both

Chapter 35

 

The night came more quickly than she had anticipated. Hawke had not seen Solas since that moment in the court yard. It had been nice, hanging out with the others like that, but a part of her couldn't help but wonder at what it was that Solas had planned. The way he had looked at her, before he'd disappeared, had her blushing instantly. He'd been very much the predator, with those eyes of his, wanting her to know she was being hunted. Of course then she'd had to explain just why she'd been blushing, and that had sent the others into another fit of laughter.

Varric, being the story teller he was, had regaled her with some of Lavellan's exploits that she'd not gotten to see. He'd also been following her for the last few minutes, as discreetly as possible, hoping to get the scoop for his next story. She loved her best and most awesome friend ever, but sometimes his curiosity sometimes got the better of him. This was sure to be one of those times.

When Iron Bull and Biscuit come walking around the corner, she arched her eyebrow at them. She didn't think anything of it, especially not with the way he casually strolled up to her. She'd been lost in thought as she wondered casually around Skyhold. Iron Bull looked at Biscuit, then to somewhere behind her, and it was like a command. Biscuit happily launched himself past her, and suddenly there was the sound of a dwarf running away from a mabari.

Bull just shook his head, chuckling slightly. “That dwarf is something else.”

“Don't torture him too much, Bull.” Hawke replied, with a soft grin.

“You got it, Hawke.” Iron Bull replied, as he walked past her. “Enjoy your week away.”

“My…week away?” Hawke murmured to herself, as she continued along her path.

She wondered at this as she walked, but she did not have to wonder for long. Slowly, a small flower trail began. If she didn't know any better, Hawke would have wondered at how he had set this up without her noticing. She had been pretty distracted, spending time with her friends, relaxing in the tub he'd set up, and generally trying to take things easy. Her trip through the Fade had been more taxing on her than she'd been willing to admit to anyone who asked, though it was something she hadn't bothered to try to hide from Solas.

His feelings of possession and protectiveness were coming through their bond, something she knew she felt as well, and so she did not try to hide how tired her body really was. It felt like they had been going nonstop for a while now, but there was really no way to get away, no matter how much she wished it or how often Solas hinted at a vacation. The trail of flower petals ended near the requisition's building. Hawke was confused, and a little annoyed that the trail lead to a dead end, and so turned to leave. As soon as she did, she felt arms wrap around her from behind, and she was pulled into some unknown place; something that had sent her into a full-blown panic.

“It is me, _Lath'in.”_ Solas stated, in an effort to calm her, and she'd stopped as soon as she heard his voice. “I should have announced myself before trying to pull you here. That was rather thoughtless of me, all things considering. _Ir abelas_.”

“I…I'm a bit…I mean…” Hawke stammered, trying to gather her thoughts, and then in a rush, she asked. “Bull said something about a week?”

“Exactly so.” Solas replied, and held out his arm to her. “Shall we then?”

“Solas, we can't possibly be away from Skyhold for that long.” Hawke objected instantly, thinking of the many things that could go wrong on a daily basis. “What if something happens? What if they need us?”

“They can get by without us for a week, _Lath'in.”_ Solas replied, lightly teasing her. She was going to object again, but he puts a finger over her lips before she can finish drawing the breath. “No. _Alhasha,_ we have had almost no time to ourselves since before I was taken from Skyhold. It has been missions, and planning, and injuries, and…I am worn thin, _Lath'in. **You**_ are worn thin. I can feel that much.”

She had given in almost the instance he had begun explaining himself, but it didn't seem that he had noticed yet. She watched with this bemused look on her face, unable or unwilling to hide the small smile that slowly spread across her face. Solas seemed exasperated almost, like he knew he'd have to fight her just to get her to agree to this mini vacation. He'd even prepared very logical arguments, which he was going through right now. It was the illogical ones though, where he went into talking about that possessive need to keep her to himself, that she wanted to hear.

“Please, _Alhasha.”_ Solas whispered into her hair. When exactly had he moved to hold her like this, his arms wrapped around her waist. “You wandered through the Fade physically, trapped with a woman who wanted to use you as a vessel, for three days. Even if I did not want to hide you away, to assure myself that you are safe, you need rest after that kind of an ordeal.”

“Alright, alright.” Hawke relented. “We can take a day.”

“A month.” Solas countered, and she backed up just enough to look up at him in objection. “If you think to lessen our time here, then I should think my counter offer to lengthen the time here to be well within my rights in negotiating terms.”

“Is that what we're doing?” Hawke asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “Negotiating?”

“I am not the one in trouble this time, _Lath'in.”_ Solas noted, reminding her. “Your move.”

“Two days.” She replied, countering his offer. “Solas, Lavellan needs us. We can't just up and leave like this.”

“Technically, we aren't leaving at all. There is a way for Lavellan to contact me if she needs us.” Solas stated, not looking convinced in the slightest. “Three weeks.”

“That is hardly an acceptable counter offer, and you know it!” Hawke huffed. “How is she supposed to contact us?”

“A communication crystal.” Solas replied, looking very much like he was enjoying this back and forth with her. “I have one, and she has the other. As long as it remains with her, she will always be able to contact us. It has no range limit, and can transmit the conversations instantly. If something happens, we will know, _Lath'in.”_

“Alright then. Three days.” She countered, stubbornly, though the implications of what he's saying are not lost on her. Lavellan had the ability to speak with them, possibly even after they leave Skyhold for good. “What about Biscuit? Who will watch him while we are gone? Who will feed him, and make sure he gets his running in? And who will keep him from stealing from the kitchen with the help of Cole?”

 _“Alhasha,_ there is an entire Inquisition out there that loves that mabari.” Solas answered, not looking bothered in the slightest by her barrage of questions. “Iron Bull can take care of him for a little while. He and the Commander can run the troops with him, and I am sure that Sera would see it as a challenge to keep him from the kitchens or join him. Two weeks.”

“We can't leave Biscuit alone that long. We've done that enough as it is. He could easily think we abandoned him.” Hawke insisted, actually a little worried about that, before countering. “Four days. Final offer.”

 _“Alhasha.”_ He teasingly admonished, as he began nibbling along her neck. “Threatening me with a final offer…is not how you negotiate…though trying to guilt me was a nice touch…I will give you that…Biscuit will not think we abandoned him…He will know we are recovering…Even he was worried about you…A week and a half.”

“Damn it, Solas, this is cheating.” Hawke objected, trying to resist how nice that felt.

“No, _ara lath_ , **_this_** is negotiating.” Solas replied, chuckling lightly, but backed off…much to Hawke's internal disappointment, and though she hid it, he saw right through it. “I would continue, if you agree to the week away. You have yet to give me a suitable objection, _Lath'in.”_

“I have too! Every one of my objections has been valid, Solas.” She insisted, stubbornly. Solas looked so sad all of a sudden, his eyes pleading with her own, that it pulled at her instantly. She realized what he was doing, but damn it if it didn't work. “That's not fair, _Ara'nas,_ using that against me. _Fen'Harel_ should not be able to use the puppy eyes to get what he wants.”

“If it makes you feel any better, _Alhasha,_ I did not think I would have to resort to using it.” Solas admitted, not a bit apologetic. “You put up much more of a fight than I had planned for, because of course you would. Anyone else would have given in to me long before now, but then that would have been rather dull negotiating. You are truly my _nas'falon, Sulahn'ean.”_

“With a will to rival your own, if I remember correctly.” She teased, before resting her head against his chest. “Alright, _Ara'nas,_ I will…begrudgingly…agree to a week.”

“I am glad. I wasn't sure what else would work.” Solas admitted, before giving her a wolfish grin and returning to playfully nibbling along her neck.

They stay there in this space for longer than Hawke could say. After a time, Solas had simply taken to holding her, as if needing the reassurance that she was real again, one of his hands around her waist while the other hand played with her hair. She hadn't realized just how badly this last mission had shaken him, though she should have. In her mind, the last few days hadn't been so bad, but in his mind? In his mind, not only had she pushed him out of the Fade, she had spent the last three days trapped in something he couldn't break through, only to realize that she had really been trapped with a woman that could steal her body if she so chose.

She really hadn't been thinking when she told Lavellan to pull him out of the Fade. It had been fear and panic that guided her actions. It did not matter that Nightmare was dead. The demon army in front of her had made her fear very real again. It was a wonder he really hadn't locked them away in their room for the week, starting from the moment she woke up, not that it hadn't crossed his mind no doubt.

Resigning herself to this 'vacation', was not as easy as she thought it would be. Hawke still wasn't sure how to relax, truth be told. Her mind kept running through several scenarios about what was going on outside this pocket of space, having had to be the responsible one for a very long time. But Solas was right when he'd said they needed this, and she couldn't deny that this was something she wanted. With each passing moment, she slowly eased into the idea of being on a vacation.

“Solas, what is this place?” She asked, when she had finally relaxed a bit, after she had turned her head to get a look where she was.

It was completely different than the room she had found before. That had simply been one room; this place was more than that. It reminded her of the palace back in Arlathan. It looked like they were in a flower garden of sorts, beautiful flowers and shrubbery all around, one that had been taken care of immaculately. A stone path wound its way through the garden, the stone wall Solas had pulled her through was now covered in loose vines and spots of moss; though if she squinted, a door could be seen through the vines.

As it had been in Skyhold, it was evening time here. All throughout the place, there were tiny specks of light that gave of a faint and comforting glow. Lightning bugs danced around them. It was all, for lack of a better word, magical. She had a sudden thought, and looked to Solas for confirmation; They weren't going to be sleeping outside like they were camping, were they?

“I had forgotten the existence of this place entirely till recently. After you left this morning, my first plan was to create a new space for you, but had to give up on that idea due to the many interruptions. That is when I remembered this place. Originally, it was an escape from self imposed importance.” Solas answered, to which she tried not to laugh. “I would like this to become a place you can escape to, that we can both escape to, should it ever be needed. Skyhold is not the only access point, so even when we leave, we will always be able to return here as you wish.”

“And here I didn't get you anything.” Hawke teased, absolutely preening at how Solas had thought of this for her, that he had once again said 'we' in regards to his future plans.

* * *

 

“Ah, but there is something I want from you, _Lath'in.”_ Solas stated, as he guided her through the garden. “Is it too much, too…possessive of me…for me to ask this time away with you? I am well aware of my desire to keep you to myself, that it is selfish of me, but-”

For once, it is Alhasha that stops him by stealing a kiss. “I **_understand,_** Solas.”

“Good.” Solas stated, relaxing now that he knew she would not object any more to the vacation. “There is much I wish to show you, something I wish to tell you as well. I am still learning things that I had forgotten.”

“ _Garal silaiman in nar ha'eindri, Fen'Harel?_ ” Alhasha teased, nudging at him playfully.

**_Getting forgetful in your old age, Fen'Harel?_ **

“I doubt you realize this, but I am technically not much older than you now.” Solas stated, with a slight smirk, as they made their way. “After all, what is a few thousand years among _nas'falon?”_

Her laughter rang out across the garden, and it made him smile to hear it. That sound would remain one of his favorites, no matter how often he heard it. He'd known that she would not want him to return to the standoffish way he had been before, but it was not easy to keep himself so open around others, and it was a relief to him to know that she did not expect that from him all the time. Private moments like these, he could be this open. That did not mean he had not been making the effort, occasionally trading barbs with the dwarf, for example, had become one of his favorite pastimes.

For now, though, he intended to enjoy this time away with her. The garden he was leading them through, eventually gave way to a small cottage lightly covered in vines and things. The irony of this was not lost on him, when he'd discovered it. Apparently he could give her the cottage, just not the hillside for it to sit on. He imagined her father would laugh outright, if he could see this place.

It did not look like her home had in Lothering, but he'd added touches to it that would make it feel more like home for her. The flowers in the windowsill boxes, and the stone pathway that lead to the cottage, were just a few of the additions he'd added once he'd gotten to work on it. He took her through each of the rooms, showing her each of the additions he'd made, explaining some of the things he'd already had in there when she pointed them out to him. It was not how he thought he would be spending the beginning of their vacation, but he found that he loved this more, treasuring the small moments for what they were. She'd been practically bouncing on the balls of her feet when she saw the claw foot bathtub and the plumbing for it that she had missed so much; magically regulated though it was.

In the backyard, if it could be called such, was a small hot spring. He knew she cherished these as well. It was nothing like the hot spring he had found her in, what she had dubbed as 'their hot spring', but it did have a charm all its own. He could see it in her eyes, her love for the place grew with each thing she saw in it. However, a gurgling sound neither of them would claim after the laughter had subsided, it became apparent that the matter of food would have to be addressed.

He'd completely redone the kitchen/dining area so that it would look more like the tavern he'd found her in in Arlathan. There was something to be said for the feeling of wood grain under one's fingertips, after all. Alhasha chuckled when she saw it, knowing instantly what he had been going for. It had been one of her favorite places while in Arlathan. The meal was simple, but the two weren't focused on it so much as they were each other.

That was something he'd had to wrestle with when thinking about how to make this a vacation they both would enjoy. Though Alhasha loved fanciful things, she was not one to indulge in them often, and Solas was set on lavishing her with the treatment he felt she deserved. Figuring out how to do that, while also indulging in her love of simplistic things, had not been as easy as he thought it should have been. He was glad to see though, as the two made small talk over dinner, that he needn't have worried over this. Her feelings of peace and contentment washed over him, and he could not help but return them with his own.

After dinner, Solas took out a small music box he'd set on the table before, and activated it before standing up to offer his hand to Alhasha. Pleasantly surprised by the turn of events, Alhasha placed her hand into his own, and the two proceeded to dance closely throughout the dining area. It was nothing like the dances they'd done in the Winter Palace of Halam'shiral, or the palace of Arlathan, but a simple swaying to and fro as they held each other close. It was not something that would have been risque by any means, but it still felt very intimate. Solas contented himself with this, while being able to hold her as he wished, and practically burying his nose in her hair; idly wondering if one really could die by hair entrenchment.

When the first yawns began appearing, again neither of them owning up to who started it, Solas knew it was time to go to bed. He would speak with her about the stories his mother told him later, but for now, he delighted in showing her their room here. The room was decked out with things that reminded him of Arlathan, each piece of furniture imbued with leaves and intricate knot-work. The bed-frame looked like it had been woven into knot-work, carved from wood though it was, leaves popping up all throughout. The mattress itself was both soft and firm, the blankets more of the kind Alhasha was used to, furs and down filled; The two fell asleep nearly as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

* * *

 

Hawke wakes up in the middle of the night to a sound she should not be hearing right now. Her head pops up at the unexpected sound, and she listens carefully. It didn't take long for it to happen again, Varric's voice is heard in the one place it should never be, in the one place she should be able to relax away from everything and everyone. Just how in all of Thedas, had he managed to find this place, or even how to get in? Solas did say he had a way for Lavellan to contact him if he needed, but he'd said something about a communication crystal, not telling the dwarf how to get in.

“Chuckles?……This thing working?” She could hear Varric call out from somewhere in the room. “Tell me I did not nick this thing off of Lightning for nothing, Chuckles. She might actually kill me when she discovers that it's gone.”

Hawke sees something glowing, and quickly reaches across Solas, laying across his stomach lightly as she does so, and grabs the communication crystal on his night stand. The thing is about the size of a small pebble. It looked like one of those glass marbles with a side that was flat. If it hadn't been glowing, Hawke would have completely missed it. She wondered at the magic of it for a moment, before deciding to try and answer the dwarf.

“Varric, so help me, you'd better have a reason for this.” She grumbled, glaring at the offensive little marble. “Do you know what time it is? I was asleep, damn it!”

“Flint?” Varric asks, sounding like he wished he hadn't said anything. “Shit……Um…This…is a test…I repeat. This is a test…”

“Dwarf, so help me, just…what is it?” Hawke asked, getting more annoyed by the second. “Right now, or so help me, I will come through this crystal and flog you myself!”

“Chuckles said…he would…help me with Cassandra.” Varric stated, mumbling the last part. “You know, sweet gestures and things. I didn't exactly expect him to up and disappear like this.”

 ** _“Seriously?!”_** Hawke hissed, in indignation. “I have successfully brought countless couples together since I arrived in Kirkwall, and you ask **_Solas?_** What am I? **_Chopped liver_**? Is this a guy thing? Did you just not want my help because of what happened to Aveline?”

“You were a bit busy gallivanting in the Fade, you know, and I was trying to keep him from killing Stroud.” Varric stated, in his defense. “The Grey Warden was convinced talking to Solas was a good idea, and Solas was convinced the man needed to be punched in the face every time he tried it. I figured getting the elf to try and help with my lack of a love life would keep him from murder, at the very least.”

“Alright, I'll give you that one. Now listen up. What I am about to tell you did not come from me. Got it?” Hawke agreed, before going into her 'wingman' mode, making sure to keep her voice low as she spoke into the little crystal. “Varric, I'm serious, damn it. Answer me. Cassandra would have my guts for garters if she knew that I knew at all.”

“Alright, alright. Andraste's great flaming ass, Flint, I get it.” Varric groused. “What do you suggest I do?”

“Write the next installment of Swords and Shields, and dedicate it to her.” Hawke stated, and she could have heard a pin drop on the other side it was so silent.

“You're joking. That book barely sold enough copies to pay for the ink.” Varric insisted, in a state of disbelief. “Why would you ask me to do that?”

“Cassandra loves it. It's her favorite book series, kind of like a guilty pleasure. If you don't believe me, she hides them under the left side of the bed, just by her nightstand.” Hawke replied, with a smirk. “I also found a collection of poetry as well, so if you want to, you know, start spouting sonnets…or writing them…now would be the time. I also recommend taking someone with you as a witness when you give her the book, that way she can't kill you, at least not in public.”

“You mean to tell me you aren't joking? She really likes those stories?…Really?…Oh, who am I kidding. This is such a horrible idea, I have to do it.” Varric said, with a bit of a laugh. “Any other bright ideas?”

“ ** _I_ ** have one.” Solas said, causing Hawke to nearly drop the communications crystal, though she does manage to save it just in time. He casually took it from her, and glared at the crystal as if Varric could see him do it. “Give the crystal back to Lavellan. Oh, and if you attempt to spy on me and _Alhasha_ again, I will make good on my threat from before. The one Iron Bull failed to mention, in case you were looking for clarification, Child of the Stone.”

With that, he slaps the crystal onto the table, eliciting grumblings of pain from the dwarf, and the glowing from the crystal stopped.

“So,……what was that about?” Hawke asked, looking over at him, playfully.

“When he said he wanted my help with Cassandra, I knew it for what it was; a way to keep me from killing Stroud. That foolish Grey Warden kept trying to talk to me, wanting to 'convey his condolences' or get me to see reason.” Solas replied, and then shook his head. “As if I would have entertained such foolish nonsense, and punched him in the face every time he tried to talk to me until he decided it was best to just leave me alone. At any rate, I figured that once he was gone, master Tethras' plea for help would be rescinded. I am not a match maker, after all, and the offer **_had_** been made under false pretenses.”

“You **_are_** a grand schemer, though.” Hawke teased. “Maybe he thought this required a more delicate touch than my own.”

“mmm.....Not that I don't love the sight of you laying naked across me like this, _Lath'in,_ but that was nowhere near enough sleep for either of us to consider what this image presents me with.” Solas stated, as he pulled her back into laying next to him in the bed.

“You sure about that?” Hawke teased. She giggled when she saw him pretending to think it over.

“Yes, _Lath'in.”_ Solas replied, after a moments pause, before moving to rest his head next to her own, wrapping an arm around her as he snuggled in. “ _Nera'min, ara vhen'an bre nuven'in. Na ema din rahn si nua ra iselena na. Mai'el, ara lath, mai'el_.”

**_Enjoy this, my heart's deepest wish. You have no idea the trouble that awaits you. So much, my love, so much._ **

* * *

 

In the morning, he had breakfast waiting for her. He knew what she had expected when she woke up, to be deliciously tortured first thing in the morning, but that was not his plan; not that that wasn't a good plan, now that he thought about it. He was a hunter, after all, and it was so much fun to watch her nervousness grow with each passing hour. At the same time, she adored the things he did. These small moments were not something they got to indulge in often, what with everything seeming to pull them in all directions at once.

It was nice to simply sit out in the garden with her, without having to wonder if there was some pressing catastrophe to prevent. It was almost like being back in his room in the palace of Arlathan. They talked of everything, and sometimes nothing at all. The gardens were a perfect place to relax, and if they weren't there, they were at the hot springs. It was not something that could always be, but it was nice to know that they could come back.

 _“Alhasha.”_ Solas said, bringing her out of her thoughts, as they relaxed in the hot spring. “Did I ever tell you some of the specifics of the spell I cast to find you?”

“Not exactly, no. You'd mentioned them in vague terms. Secret wishes, a last hope, things like that.” She replied, with a pleasant sigh. She really loved hot springs.

“Yes. There is a specific piece of that I feel I should tell you about, now that I realize what it means for you.” Solas explained with a tired sigh, something that caught her attention. She looked up at him in concern, not for herself, but for him. “When I was little, my mother would tell me stories of a people before the elves. They used magic as if it were intrinsic to their very being, followed their instincts without question. Over time, they lost much about themselves. Instead of following their instincts, they followed orders. Instead of using their magic intrinsically, schools of thought were formed; In a way, they are the beginnings of the Circles we now have. Magic itself was no longer wild, but disciplined.”

“The elves weren't the first to be created?” Alhasha asked, intrigued. “Don't tell the dalish that just yet. They might implode.”

“Yes. Had I but had you when I woke before the events of the Conclave, I might have held my tongue. As it was, however, I had expected too much from them too quickly.” Solas replied, in agreement, before continuing. “These people were lost in obscurity. Eventually, they became myth, and so on down the line. And one day, they became stories told to children with magic, who lived in isolated backwater towns.”

“Like yours?” She asked, with a teasing smile.

“Like mine.” He replied in agreement, before stealing a small kiss. “People that are lost to us can not be brought back. Animals, such as the Griffon, will remain extinct forever. These truths are unchanging. So sure was I in this fact, that when I created the spell that would find my True Kindred Soul, I added the qualities of those people. It was…in some small way, to honour the will of my mother, even as I thought to trick the other Evanuris. It had been her wish to see something of these people return to this world, even if they could not. She used to tell me that when we lost them, we lost what it truly means to know magic.”

“That explains a few things.” She said, with a bit of a laugh, but then she looked thoughtful again. “Why are you telling me this, Solas? Not that I don't appreciate knowing why my magic feels like it's in my bones, but there's a reason you're telling me this particular story.”

“Indeed there is.” He admitted, a bit sheepishly. “For a mere child, some parts of their culture were too 'involved' to tell one so young. So my mother watered it down, explained that there was a bonding ritual, something she only referred to as 'the bite'. It was not until years later, that I found out everything that it entailed. It was not something I added to the spell, and it was more than a little surprising when you began it.”

“We've **_bitten_** each other plenty of times, _Ara'nas. **You**_ have a particular fascination with biting on my neck, if I remember correctly.” Alhasha muttered, blushing nicely now. “Why didn't it enact itself then?”

“I am uncertain, _Lath'in._ My only guess is that it had to be you that began it, perhaps because it is you that holds magic that is intrinsic to your very being. Even my magic is not so deeply rooted as that.” Solas said, thinking back on it. “Your magic feels like I belong to it, and so it would make sense that you would be the one needed to start the claiming bond. It is only a theory, at any rate. We may never know for certain.”

“How is that even possible, when I didn't know about it in the first place?” She asked. She didn't look angry, just confused and unsure of what was going on.

“Things often happen without us having to know about it in the first place.” Solas replied, with a slight grin, and she huffed at him. “This changes nothing, _Alhasha._ It is just another new thing that we learned of each other. These types of things will always go at your pace. Why does this surprise you now?”

“Because I didn't even know this was a thing!” She blurted out loudly, before covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide.

 _“Alhasha…”_ He began, but sighed, knowing he was going about this all wrong now. “ _Ir abelas, Lath'in_. I had intended this to be a more pleasurable conversation, but it seems I have miscalculated. Tell me something. Do you think I would complete the claiming bond forcefully as some form of the 'trouble' you were expecting?”

She opened her mouth in objection, but froze and closed it again, instead choosing to look down into the water. She couldn't deny it, not with any truth to it, and he knew that. It's why he'd asked, after all. A part of him felt disappointed that she thought he would force himself on her, but he also understood that for what it was, and he was not willing to make her ashamed of that with guilt. Instead, he leans over and grabs one of the bottles of shampoo he'd secretly stashed there, and holds it out in question to her.

She laughs in spite of herself, and moves to sit in front of him, and stated. “You know, you have an abnormal obsession with my hair. I'm half tempted to see if my magic will give you hair of your own to play with.”

“It will surprise you to know that at one time, I **_did_** have hair.” Solas replied, as he begins massaging her scalp under the water, ignoring the _'Shan'ishan'_ comment…and the snickering. “Not quite as long as yours is now, which I mostly kept in tiny braids to keep it managable.”

“Really?” Alhasha asked, still grinning, though she was more into the massage her scalp was getting. “What happened to it?”

“A magic accident.” Solas explained lightly, and paused only because her laughter couldn't be contained any longer. When she calmed down, he was already lathering her hair with the shampoo, but he continued. “I was working on a complex spell, one that would normally take hours to do correctly, but I was confident that I could cast the spell in minutes…if I negated all of the safety features that the spell seemed to require. I had thought them all pointless, and bragged to anyone that would listen that I could achieve the impossible. The magical backlash caught the room on fire, and burnt off all my hair, blew me back into the one safety feature I had not planned on having there…June knew precisely what was about to happen to me, and had created a pool right where I would have landed during the blow back from the spell. I went from having a full head of hair that went down to my elbows to having absolutely no hair at all. I think even my eyebrows were gone for a time. Thankfully, those grew back. My hair, sadly, is another story. That man laughed for a full month, I'm sure of it.”

“I bet!” She said, with a laugh, turning around as soon as her hair was rinsed out, narrowing her eyes at him as if she were concentrating on something. “What colour was it? Your hair, I mean.”

“Nearly as dark black as yours, but with bits of brown in it.” Solas answered, not sure where this was going. “Why?”

“Just trying to imagine it. I seriously think I could make your hair grow back.” She replied, as she looked over him. “That is, if you wanted.”

“Perhaps another time. I have grown accustomed to a lack of hair over the years.” Solas replied, after a moment of thought.

“Maybe then I'll get to run my fingers through **_your_** hair the way you seem to enjoy doing to **_mine.”_** She teased, as she ran her fingertips over his scalp as if she were putting a bit of hair behind his ears.

“Maybe.” He replied, loving the way her fingers felt like that, before leaning back slightly away from her touch. _“Alhasha,_ about before…the things I told you…Had I not been willing to accept the claiming bond from you, it would not have taken, a surprise though it was to me. It would simply have been another normal bite. The same will apply to you, should you choose. It will not, can not, be completed until you are ready to accept it.”

“I'm being foolish again, aren't I?” She asked, glancing over at him.

“No, _Lath'in._ I do not believe you are, and I would know.” Solas remarked, drawing her to him now. “I believe I may be the King of foolish decisions, after all.”

She chuckled at that, but her face got that deep blush again, as she replied. “It's just…I know it's foolish, but I had plans, damn it.”

“Plans?” He asked, slightly puzzled, tilting his head slightly. Embarrassment was rolling off of her in waves, but he didn't yet understand why.

“Yes. **_Plans.”_** She emphasized, her blush more evident now. He held in his smirk, having an idea of what she'd meant now. “I'd planned to wait, you know, marriage and all that. I didn't…I mean…I didn't realize there would be a forever claiming thing before that…and here I go, and do… ** _that…”_**

“Ah, so that is what has been bothering you.” Solas stated in understanding, before looking to her. “Is that what you would like to wait for then? ( _Alhasha seemed shocked by this_ ) I do not mind waiting to complete the claiming bond with you, _ara Sulahn'ean_. If it is your wish to wait to do so till after a ceremony, I see no reason not to do so. It is not an unreasonable thing to wish for, _Alhasha.”_

“You would do that?” She asked, with a mix of surprise and shock. Solas only grinned and gave a slow nod. “Wait, so this trouble I'm in, what exactly is it then?”

“Truly?” Solas asked, wondering if she really wanted to know. She didn't budge, which only made his grin wider. “In part, you've been living it this past day or so.”

“You mean…?” She asked, trailing off without finishing the question.

“Yes. _Alhasha,_ I know that you are not one for decadence.” He stated, stopping her objections before they even had a chance to start. “You deserve to be treated like a goddess, a queen. You should want for nothing, and if I have my way, you will always be treated like such by me.”

“This hardly seems like trouble, _Ara'nas.”_ She admonished, playfully.

“I did say it was only **_part_** of it, _Lath'in.”_ Solas reminded her, before stealing a kiss.

 


	36. Blackwall's Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall decides he can no longer hide. What will they do now?

Chapter 36

 

She was still blushing at the memory of what they just did. If that was what he could come up with while planning, she needed to step things up the next time he did something to get into trouble. Maybe they just had a thing for hot springs? Then again, she thought as they made their way back inside now wearing robes he'd set out, it didn't look like she was out of trouble yet. Solas had that look again, the one that suddenly meant she was prey this time, but there was more to it than that.

It seemed that his fear had changed when she'd had him sent out of the Fade. She was to blame for that, she knew. They really were too much alike in some regards. He'd been afraid of losing her, sure, but now he was afraid of being unable to get to her at all. He'd lived that fear for three days straight, because he'd spent the majority of the time trying to find a way to get to her, afraid that she would be lost to him forever by the time he could find her.

That night found them with Hawke wrapping her arms around Solas as they nestled down to sleep. His head rested above her breasts as he clung to her. How strange, for him to be the one who worried over losing her, when she had been afraid he would leave her behind. What a pair they made, she mused as she drifted off to sleep. Maybe now that they had both scared each other, they wouldn't try to protect each other when it wasn't clearly needed.

* * *

 

“What do you mean, he's gone?!” Lavellan demanded, anxiously. “Where would Blackwall go?”  
“Blackwall seemed particularly interested in one of my reports, but I didn't think anything of it until he went missing.” Leliana explained. “It was on a Mornay, set to be executed in a few days time in Val Royeux.”

“Shit.” Lavellan grumbled, before looking back to them. “Who's available to go with me? Blackwall wouldn't leave like this unless it was for something important.”

“Dorian is researching the origins of Corypheus, trying to track down the original family line. Vivienne is working on finding rare potions ingredients for a rather delicate matter, she insists it is a time sensitive matter. Cassandra is tracking down what happened to the other Seekers.” Josephine stated, looking over her clip board. Lavellan is not the only one who notices how determined the woman is to keep on task this time, more so than usual. “I don't think Varric is doing anything at the moment, at least not that he can't take with him. I actually have no idea where Sera is, but I am willing to bet Biscuit is with her. He has not been seen in the kitchen recently. Iron Bull is off with the Chargers on another mission for you, Inquisitor, and Hawke and Solas are due back within the next day or so. As for Cole, I can't quite seem to recall what he is doing at the current moment.”

“That settles it then. As soon as Hawke and Solas get out of…where ever they are around here, we'll pack and leave. I'll see if Varric wants to go too. Cole might come along as well, if Varric does.” Lavellan said. As the others left, she pulled Josephine aside. “What ever it is, we will bring him back, Josephine.”

“I appreciate it, Lavellan, but the Inquisition is more important than anything else.” Josephine objected kindly. “If what he's done is too…damaging, I can not ask you to spare him……no matter how much I may wish it.”

Knowing she couldn't leave it like that, Lavellan thought about what she should do. After Josephine left, Lavellan sighed heavily. It was obvious Blackwall was going to rescue this Mornay person, and that he hadn't said anything to Josephine before he left. Josephine feared the worst, but what even was that? She sighed again as she came up with no answers to her many internal questions, surprised when Cullen's arms came around her back to wrap around her.

“What are you thinking, Dhaevira?” He asked, as he lightly tightened his arms around her in comfort.

“Whatever this is, it's bad, isn't it?” She asked, in response. “Hawke or Solas leaving for some random important personal quest is kind of…normal, but Blackwall? That man is as stable as the stone. For him to fly off like this, it has to be bad.”

“It may be.” Cullen agreed. “If you like, I'd like to come with you on this one. Whatever happens, I am with you, Dhaevira.”

* * *

 

Solas was actually surprised that they had not been called back. With their luck the way it was, something always seemed to pull them from each other when they tried for moments alone. A full blown vacation felt like it was testing the waters more than normal. He was also more than a little surprised that Alhasha had not mentioned checking up on Lavellan. She worried for more than he felt she should, but she had yet to mention anything near concern if the Inquisition members were brought up.

He would have to thank Dorian later though. The Showy Tevene had come through when he'd asked about items that could cancel out someone's magic without making them powerless. The man hadn't even blinked, and proceeded to hand him a strip of cloth out of his desk. One time use, Dorian had explained, but they were simple to make; and thankfully he had included the steps to make it without having to be asked. Solas was sure he'd settled some bet or other, when he heard Dorian's quiet laughter when he'd left the library.

As of yet, he had not figured out how to suppress one's magic the way Alhasha had, and she wasn't about to share that little bit of information. So he was left with this, something she had delighted in more than he thought she would. Being restrained, even lightly, was not something one agrees to without completely trusting the one restraining them. Solas was humbled even in this, to know that she truly trusted him this much, not that he didn't thoroughly enjoy it when she turned it around on him as well. But all good things must come to an end, it seemed, and so it did not come as quite the shock when Lavellan's voice rang out over breakfast.

“Solas? Hawke?…Please tell me you two aren't fucking. I don't think my ears could handle that level of embarrassment.” Lavellan's voice came from the stone.

Alhasha's head thumped against his chest, and she shook with the effort to keep her laughter silent. They had actually just sat down to breakfast. Despite Solas' expansive knowledge of sex, not that he meant to boast, Alhasha kept surprising him with ideas he hadn't thought of; strange considering she was the one with the least amount of experience. She'd just introduced him to the concept of adding sauces and foods, something he was quite looking forward to trying at some point, when Lavellan's voice had called out over the breakfast table. That was what Alhasha was currently trying not to laugh about, and it only got worse the more Lavellan commented on things as if she were having an internal monologue. Solas chuckled to himself, and decided to spare Lavellan any more embarrassment, if only so that Alhasha could actually breathe.

“We are just sitting down to breakfast, _Lethal'lan_.” Solas replied, towards the stone setting on the table. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“Solas? Is that you?” Lavellan asked, in shock. “You sound almost… ** _happy._ ”**

“I suppose it was only expected of me to remain stoic for the rest of my days?” He teased.

“Oh, dear Creaters! He jokes now too.” Lavellan teased right back, her voice picking up in pitch. “You'd better stamp that down or else you'll have Varric trying to re-nickname you, and we can't have that.”

“Lavellan, what is it?” Solas asked, catching the worry in her voice. “You seem a bit too…eager…to joke with me. This isn't about master Tethras taking the stone before, is it?”

“You mean, Varric actually……That sneaky little shit…” Lavellan grumbled to herself, before sighing. “No…it isn't. It's Blackwall. He's missing. Well, not missing really. He left without telling anyone, headed for Val Royeux. There's some guy going to be executed within the next day or so now. That's the only lead we have.”

“I wonder…” Solas mused to himself, before talking more directly into the crystal. “I assume we leave as soon as we can?”

“Yes. If we can get there quickly, maybe we can figure out what's going on.” Lavellan stated. “I'll see you two when you get back.”

With that, the crystal went dark. Alhasha hadn't interrupted the conversation, and when it turned to Blackwall, she'd gotten this thoughtful look on her face. He thought he knew what Blackwall was doing, but until they got to Val Royeux, it was anyone's guess. The rest of their meal was a quiet affair, the call from Lavellan signalling the end of their vacation from it all. As reluctant as Solas was to go back just yet, it was surprisingly Alhasha that lingered when they made to leave.

“We can always come back, _Lath'in_.” Solas stated, trying to ease her mind. “No one else knows how to get into this place but us.”

“It's not that.” Alhasha denied, looking pensive. “It's Blackwall. I think…I think I know something, but I'm not sure on it…The way he smells…Have you never sensed anything strange about it?”

“I hadn't focused on it long enough to wonder, _Alhasha._ It is not in my nature to smell other men.” He teased, getting a small chuckle from her, before he returned to his serious demeanor. “Now that you mention it, there was something…off about it. It's our conversation that makes me wonder, though.”

“Really?” She asked, as they re-entered Skyhold.

“On our way to Adamant, when we spoke, he mentioned not letting secrets eat at me.” Solas replied, as they walked back to their hard to find room. “He harbors secrets of his own, I'd wager, and I wonder if he's finally decided not to let his continue to eat at him.”

“Alright then, to Val Royeux.” She stated, before they entered their room, and got to packing. He'd almost finished packing, when she reached out to him. “Solas?…This time away…I'm glad you talked me into it.”

“It was more like I took you hostage, but I am glad as well.” He replied, with a knowing smile. “Back to it, then?”

“As always.” Alhasha replied, and they headed out the door.

* * *

 

This whole thing is messed up, and he knows without having to ask, that Hero has done something he can't come back from. But Varric knows Flint and Lightning, and if anyone can bring Hero back from whatever mess he's in, it's those two. Speaking of which, Flint and Chuckles come into view as they head towards the stables. She looks better now that she's actually had time to breathe, and part of him envies her for that. Meanwhile, Chuckles actually looks happy; like the weight of the world may still feel like it's on his shoulders now, but he doesn't have to carry it alone.

“So, finally back are you?” Varric cracked, as soon as they get to the rest of the party. “Surprised you managed to keep her in there that long, Chuckles. What did you do, tie her up the whole time?”

He thinks he's going to get a rise out of them, something to offset the melancholy that's already begun to hang over the party. Curly just shakes his head, chuckling even as he's blushing, as he gets his horse ready. Lightning is the same way, but she has a sly smile to her face, as if she knows something he doesn't; and he makes a mental note to ask her about it later. Flint doesn't disappoint, but then it's always been easy to make her blush. She can say things that would make a sailor blush, but her fair skin does her no favors.

“Not the entire time, no, master Tethras.” Solas remarked, his usual brand of dry humour already at hand, but Varric is surprised to see a slight pink tinge to his face as well.

“Damn it. I owe Sparkler money.” Varric grumbled, while the others laughed harder at Solas' remark.

“Wearing thin, **_too_** thin, but better now. He does not wish to share this burden, but they are both lighter for it.” Cole stated, showing up out of thin air as he often did.

“Thank you, Cole.” Solas replied, with a slight smile. “I take it you wish to go help Blackwall as well?”

“Yes. He hurts, but wants to make it better, heal a hurt he can't make up for.” Cole replied, but did not elaborate. The Kid was weird like that a lot.

“Alright then, if you're all ready, we should get going now.” Lavellan stated, with a serious tone, and everyone picked up the pace.

It wasn't long till they were out on the road, but everyone was quiet again. He didn't mind traveling in quiet once in a while, but it had been getting consistently quiet for the last several trips, and things needed to change. People were getting too lost in their own thoughts, and with how dire this all was, Varric couldn't blame them. If something didn't happen soon though, they'd end up getting themselves killed before Corypheus had a chance to do it. Sera was right when she said something needed to be done about this.

* * *

 

Val Royeaux was the most beautiful city she'd ever seen. Hawke only wished she could stop to appreciate it. There were certainly already several places she wanted to visit, and ones she knew she could push Solas into before he realized what her plans were. They were here for Blackwall, however, and whatever crazy plan he was there to fulfill. Her plans would have to wait till later.

A crowd was gathered around the gallows, screaming and cheering for what was about to happen, and a sense of dread filled her as she saw the man sitting on his knees up on the platform. She always hated executions like this, even though she understood the reason for them. Watching someone die, for the sake of entertainment, had never sat well with Hawke. The man sitting there looked wasted away to nothing, a shell of the man he used to be, and she suddenly realizes that this is Mornay. This is the man Blackwall was here for.

The man's execution wasn't scheduled till tomorrow, but it didn't look like anyone wanted to wait. She watched as the crowd they were entering continued to cheer, even when they saw a man get onto the platform with a scroll in his hand. Hawke imagined he would read out the crimes laid against this man. There was something of defeat about the man, accepting that he was about to die, and she clinched her fists in an effort to keep herself under control. Something about this felt wrong to her, like it was all coming to a head.

“Cyril Mornay, for your crimes against the Empire of Orlais,” An announcer called out, as another man dressed from head to toe in black with a black skeleton mask, dragged Mornay towards the ropes hanging down from the beam above them. “for the murders of General Vincent Callier, Lady Lorette Callier, their four children, and their retainers, you are sentenced to be hanged from the neck until dead.” The announcer rolled the scroll up he placed it in a holder on his hip, before adding. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

There was a moment of silence, almost as if the crowd held it's breath. When no words were said, the man that had the scroll nodded his head to the man in all black. Hawke tensed all of a sudden, and Solas took her hand into his own. He could sense what she did, she assumed, but he had the presence of mind not to stop the proceedings. The men began positioning one of the noose's over Mornay's head.

“STOP!” Blackwall's voice rang out, and he could be seen rushing up the platform.

“A Grey Warden?” The man with the scroll exclaimed.

“This man is innocent of the crimes laid before him.” Blackwall continued, looking not only at the man but at the crowd as well. “Orders were given, and he followed them like any good soldier.”

“Then find me the man that gave the order!” The man with the scroll insisted, pointing a finger to Blackwall.

“Shit, Hero.” She could hear Varric muttering in the background. Cullen had his arms wrapped around Lavellan as she called out to Blackwall.

“No. I am not Blackwall! I never was.” He said, as he hung his head, before breathing in deeply to regain his composure. “Warden Blackwall is dead, has been for years. I assumed his name to hide, like a coward, from who I really am.”

“You…” Mornay choked out in disbelief. “After all this time…”

“It's over. I'm done hiding.” Blackwall said, as he faced the man, a look of compassion and sorrow in his eyes. He turned back to face the crowd, and spoke as loudly as he could. “I gave the order. The crime is mine. I am Thom Rainier.”

* * *

 

He wasn't sure what to think. Blackwall, no- Rainier, had thrown him for a loop. He'd run from something unforgivable in Cullen's eyes, but had come to the Inquisition, bleed for their cause. He had been a good man, was a good man. Why, after all of that, would the man turn back from a past he'd shed himself of, only to own up to it now?

They were at the Jailer's now. Dhaevira was down in the cells talking with Rainier now, wanting an explanation, trying to find a way out for him; Cullen didn't know. He wanted to rage at the man, but a part of him understood. His past wasn't free of demons either. Solas and Hawke had remained quiet so far, something that intrigued him, even as Varric and Cole talked quietly among themselves.

“How can you two sit there so calmly, knowing what he did?” Cullen asked, looking to the two of them now.

“Blackwall-”

“Rainier!” Cullen shouted, angrily.

“I did not know the original Blackwall, and so Rainier is Blackwall to me.” Solas replied, unbothered by Cullen's outburst. “At any rate, the man offered me advice. 'Don't let your secrets eat at you', he'd said to me. I can only assume he is owning up to his now, proving his words. How can I be angry at a man trying to live by his word?”

The words were spoken quietly, but even so they had a profound affect on Cullen. How could he be mad at a man trying to live by his word? Rainier was trying to overcome his demons, by owning up to them. He could not fault him for that, and he owed the man for saving Dhaevira's life more than once. The door opened to reveal a crying Dhaevira, and she stumbled into the room.

“We get him out of there.” She insisted. “We can't let him throw his life away, not now.”

“We can do that, Dhaevira.” Cullen replied. “Leliana sent over a list of possibilities. We **_can_** get him out of there.”

“He's willing to die because of what he did, but I just…I can't let him.” Lavellan stated, trying to calm herself down.

“It will be alright, Lethal'lan.” Solas said, trying to comfort her. “He is a good man. One day, he will remember this.”

* * *

 

Rainier sighed, and shook his head again. He could hear the conversation going on just a little ways away. He'd been a good man, but he was tired of living the lie that was Blackwall. The world shouldn't have lost another good man, but it had, and his attempt to make up for it had come at a price. It had been one he was no longer willing to pay.

So here he sat in a dank cell, trying to remember how to be Rainier again, for what little time remained to him. He didn't want to be that monster again, couldn't bring himself to do it. Josephine's face crossed his mind again, and he hung his head in shame. He didn't deserve to think about her. That woman deserved someone who would never do the things he'd done.

“You know, I wasn't sure I could sneak in here without the Jailer finding out.” Hawke's voice stated, surprising him out of his thoughts.

“Point to you then.” Rainier huffed, not even bothering to look at her. “Now leave me be.”

“If you think that Lavellan is going to let you die tomorrow, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought.” Hawke proclaimed, not bothered by the glare he gave her.

“I'm a monster. I killed women and children, lead my men into that when they had no idea, and got paid for it.” Rainier pointed out. “Why am I even talking to you? Compared to the things I've done, you're still a child.”

“I know that I have more innocent blood on my hands than you do.” Hawke countered, and Rainier scoffed at that. “Don't believe me? Who do you think is responsible for Corypheus walking around Thedas?”

“That's guilt by association. Doesn't count.” Rainier replied, matter-of-factly.

“The Chantry believes it does. I suppose you're right though, but the choices that I've made have had far reaching consequences I could never have foreseen.” Hawke admitted, a bit lost in her own thoughts. “An entire civilization is on the brink of death because of me, a shadow compared to what it was. A friend that was dear to Solas is dead now, because some of the mages I'd saved in Kirkwall bound it to a dead body and corrupted its purpose. Red Lyrium is everywhere, because I discovered it in the Deep Roads, and Bartrand brought it back with him. My brother is dead, because I was selfish and couldn't stand the thought of being down in the Deep Roads without him. The Mage Rebellion started because I refused to let them kill one man, so they killed thousands. They are still at it, only now they aren't hiding behind a rebellion to do it.”

“All those decisions you made, you did that for the betterment of your family or for others.” Rainier objected, standing up abruptly, slamming his fists against the bars. “What I did, I did out of greed! For myself! I can't be forgiven for that.”

“So your answer for death, is **_more_** death?” Hawke asked, scoffing at him.

“It's the only way to make things right.” Rainier replied, with conviction.

“You're so full of shit.” Hawke snarled at him, surprising him with the action, before berating him. “You think your death is going to fix what you did to that family?! Nothing will fix that! It won't give their relatives peace, knowing you're dead for what you did!”

“ _Lath'in, sathan, felas nar'lan._ ” Solas said, softly, as he walked towards them. “It is out of our hands now, _Alhasha_.”

Hawke jerked her hand out of his hold when he made to lead her away, something that surprised both men, before she turned back to Rainer and reached through the bars to pull him as close as he could get to them.

“It didn't give me peace when I killed the man that murdered my mother. It just left me feeling hollow, and empty. That's all they'll feel when you're dead, because death is easy. It's why we don't think twice about killing an enemy, because they're the bad guy. So it's okay to kill them.” She said it so low, he's not sure Solas can hear her. “Living with death is the hard part; Seeing it around you daily, being the cause of it, watching the ones you love die because of the choices you made, killing so many people that no matter how long you wash your hands they'll never be clean again because you're drowning in the blood you've spilled, and still trying to be a better person than you were the day before. You don't want to attone. You want to give up, because then you wont have to wake up every day and face what you've done.”

She left without another word, giving Solas an apologetic glance before exiting the room. The things she said seemed like they bounced off of the walls, surrounding his mind. Rainer sighed, and went back to sitting on the bench in the cell. Solas stared off towards the exit, a look of longing crossing his face, before turning his attentions back to Rainer. It seemed he too had something to say.

Rainer sighed. “Well, go on then. Say your peace, and get out.”

“If you insist, Blackwall. _Alhasha_ may not have the experience of killing for selfishness or greed, but I do.” Solas stated, surprising him. “She has a forgiving soul, and so she will forgive you, because she needs to, because **_you_** need her to. Lavellan will forgive you. Josephine will forgive you. They **_all_** will.”

“And you? Will you forgive me too?” Rainer asked, finding himself curious to know.

“No, because I do not need to, and you do not need me to.” Solas answered. “I have done things that make this look like nothing, and she forgave me that, but she is right. Though I too deserve death for my actions, it is living with them that will determine my atonement. She is my way back.”

“She knows your secrets then? Forgave you for them and everything?” Rainier asked, in surprise.

“Indeed, but I found it was never **_her_** reaction I had to worry about.” Solas replied, with a slight nod. “When you stand before Lavellan, you will have a choice to make on how you will earn your atonement. Choose wisely, my friend. Second chances are not to be taken lightly.”

* * *

 

 _Lath'in, sathan, felas nar'lan –_ **_Love, please, calm yourself_ **

* * *

 

“So, are we breaking him out or what?” Hawke asked, angrily, as soon as she stepped into the room with the others. “I don't know if you've forgotten, but I can literally walk through walls. I'm sure I could pull him out of there no problem.”

“It got to you too, didn't it.” Lavellan said, knowingly. “The cavalier way he talked about his own death.”

“Like it's his way to atone? Yeah.” Hawke admitted. “I just can't…”

“Let him?” Lavellan asked, knowingly. Hawke nodded. So Lavellan turned to Cullen. “Alright, Commander, what are our options?”

Cullen blushed when she called him Commander, which always amused her to no end, and got out a scroll that had been sent ahead of them. “Leliana actually anticipated this, I think. Several of the possibilities list breaking him out of there, but I think our best one is a switch.”

“A switch?” She asked, a bit confused.

“Yes. There's someone that's slated for execution that looks roughly like Black–I mean Rainier.” Cullen explained. “We could switch them, and sneak him out at nightfall, that way you can judge him as you see fit back at Skyhold.”

“I rather like that idea.” Lavellan replied after a while. “How soon can you get word to them?”

“It's already been done.” Varric piped up, surprising them all. “See? While you guys were flipping out over Hero, Me and the Kid sent word back to Nightingale to do the switch. The Kid figured that's the one you would pick, and he's never usually wrong, so…I say we take this time, since we'll be headed back tomorrow, and terrorize Val Royeux.”

* * *

 

“Not a bad idea, master Tethras.” Solas remarked, startling the dwarf.

The dwarf was right about one thing. This group needed a distraction, something that would temporarily take their minds off of what had happened and what was about to happen. What he'd witnessed down in that cell told him that. There were still things about his nas'falon that he did not know, and what caused that troubled look on her face as she thought back to something was one of them. He could probably find it in the Fade if he looked hard enough, but this was something that would help her if she spoke of it.

“So, what'd'ya say, Curly? Chuckles?” Varric asked, looking to the others. “Want to mess with some Orlesians?”

“I'm not sure you would be up for the type of scandalizing I had in mind, Child of the Stone.” Solas teased, keeping his usual stoic expression.

“No thanks, Chuckles, I've seen way too much of Flint naked.” Varric said, shuddering as he thought back to something The threat Iron Bull finally told him, if Solas had to guess.

“Through no fault but your own, dwarf.” Alhasha teased, her eyes lit up with mischief.

“Fine. I hate to pull the man card, but this is a man thing, and I need advice.” Varric huffed. “I've never asked this, Flint. Please?”

“Oh, alright. I'm sure Lavellan and I can get into our own trouble without you lot.” Alhasha agreed, obviously seeing something in Varric's eyes that he did not. “Will Cole be with us, or do you think he can help with whatever you're doing?”

“The Stone needs me more.” Cole replied. No wonder he had been hovering around Varric the whole trip.

“I see.” Alhasha replied, before looking over to Lavellan. “So, what to do? Shopping or Trouble?”

“Both?” Lavellan suggested, something that Alhasha brightened up to immediately. “Both. Both sounds good.”

They were gone before anyone could think to stop them.

“Alright, out with it, Dwarf.” Cullen insisted, as they all too left the building. “You pulled the 'man card', so what gives? Do you know how many romantic things are in Val Royeux that Dhaevira likes?”

“I get it, I get it. I'm in trouble, but if I don't deal with this now, it'll be worse.” Varric insisted.

“Can't move forward without looking back.” Cole said, gesturing to Varric. “A war and a secret, made up stories to hide the one he promised not to tell. What is she doing here?”

“What does he mean by that? Who is ' _she_ '?” Cullen asked, not understanding, but Solas watched Varric's eyes and he knew.

“Bianca.” Solas realized. One look from Varric, and he knew he was right. “What happened? Why does this woman worry you so?”

“Come on, Chuckles, do you really have to ask?” Varric asked, exasperated. Solas just gave him a look. “Fine. Short version? We were going to get married, her family didn't approved, she got married to somebody…better suited, still sends me letters on the odd occasion. We aren't supposed to be near each other, because we damn near started a clan war the last time. I tell her about the Thaig so she can keep an eye on it. You know the one, Curly, considering it's responsible for the red lyrium that pushed Meredith over the edge. Anyway, I get a letter from her telling me there's Venatori messing around the Thaig, and there aren't too many people that know the location of that thing. It was made a secret because of what happened with Bartrand, and Meredith.”

“You suspect her of something then.” Solas concluded, but there was more to Varric's apprehension. “You think she'll go after Seeker Cassandra?”

“Look. It's not like Cassandra can't take care of herself. Alright? I get that, but Bianca is…” Varric struggled, trying to find the words. “Well, the last person I tried to court ended up skipping town after meeting her. The one before that ended up dead. There for a while, I thought Flint would end up the same, because her playful nature comes off as flirting if you don't pay attention.”

“What is it that you're asking, dwarf?” Cullen asked, narrowing his eyes at the dwarf in question.

“I don't know.” Varric admitted, pacing. “I know she's at the center of this somehow. Messes like this one are her signature thing, and she expects me to come along and clean up after her like always. I can't do that this time. There _is_ no fixing this.”

“master Tethras, does Seeker Cassandra know about Bianca?” Solas asked.

“Do you think I'd be here asking for you're all's help if she did?” Varric snapped.

“Others stories are safer than Stone, telling stories to find what's lost. Don't know if I can get that back. Will she listen?” Cole interjected.

“Maybe that is what you're afraid of.” Solas realized. “We are not without our pasts, Varric, none of us. You convinced me that _Alhasha_ could see past my mistakes, that she would guard my secrets more fiercely than her own. You should trust the Seeker to do the same.”

“Don't know where I'd be if Dhaevira couldn't see past my mistakes.” Cullen mused.

“You'd probably be the same miserable bastard you were in Kirkwall.” Varric said, with a chuckle.

“Most likely.” Cullen admitted, before shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Now, what say we surprise our ladies. I'm sure there's something I can get for Dhaevira here.”

“They will like that.” Cole stated, happy that they had talked this out, before disappearing.

“So, you two aren't going to tell the girls I kind of lost it, are you?” Varric asked, looking a bit hesitant.

“I am certain they already know, master Tethras.” Solas mused, with an easy smile, to which Varric arched an eyebrow at him. “Where do you think Cole went?”

 


	37. Almost everyone has something going on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what the title suggests, setting it up for a mostly Hawke themed chapter next time.

Chapter 37

 

Cole had found them in a beautiful cafe where the tables were outside and pretty flowers decorated the place. He'd told them what he felt he could, but Hawke had not taken the news well. She was angry, barely controlling her outrage, and trying to stay calm long enough for Lavellan to assure the spirit boy that all was well. The other patrons looked at the two nervously anyway, as anyone there knew who they were. Lavellan knew she would have to calm the woman down if she wanted to keep things stable in the shop.

“Thank you, Cole, that was very helpful.” Lavellan replied, not understanding why Hawke was upset yet.

“I like to help.” Cole stated, before disappearing.

“ _Ra oinmun-theslol_ _dyrlan!_ ” Hawke shouted, angrily, tossing her glass at the nearest wall.

**_That nug humping bitch!_ **

“I'll pay for that!” Lavellan called out to the disgruntled waiter, before turning to Hawke. “Hawke, you have to calm down, and explain to me what's wrong.”

“What's wrong is that woman's had her fingers in my friend's brain for the past decade or so!” Hawke shouted, slamming her fist onto the table since she didn't have a glass to throw anymore. “Of all the things to do to a person, to keep him off limits to others even though she isn't with him, to never allow him to move on…”

“You're going to get her good, aren't you.” Lavellan realized, with a mixture of dread and amusement.

“There's never been a Hawke style wingman stunt like what I'm going to do that woman.” Hawke promised.

Lavellan was sure that truer words had never been spoken. She isn't sure what Hawke will plan, but then again Hawke has never planned a wingman stunt as a way of revenge on someone not being set up by her. She has to admit, keeping someone on standby like that for over a decade is a bitch move. Varric deserved better than that. His deflections were easier to understand now, but even so, he had one of the biggest hearts she'd ever had the pleasure of calling a friend.

“So, what do you think you and Solas will be doing after all this is over?” Lavellan asked, trying to switch to more pleasant topics.

Hawke smiled, and replied. “Traveling, I'm sure. I can't imagine him staying in one place for long, and traveling as I have with the Inquisition, it reminds me of the better parts of the traveling we always did. I'm kind of looking forward to seeing some of these places he keeps talking about.”

“Come **_on,_** Hawke, I'm dying over here.” Lavellan exclaimed, in mock suffering. “When's the wedding?”

Hawke immediately starts blushing, and mumbles. “We haven't talked about it yet.”

“Are you serious?!” Lavellan asked, before bursting out laughing. “You have to be the only woman to not have wedding fever as soon as they're engaged.”

“We've been a bit busy!” Hawke insisted, and then upon realizing how that sounded, promptly burst into laughter herself. When she calmed down, she explained. “With everything going on, we just haven't talked about it. I think he's too worried about Sebastian to plan it soon.”

Lavellan sobered up at that, and admitted. “I kind of forgot about him. It's like he fell off the map or something.”

“Me too, at least for a bit. The longer there's nothing, the more I worry though.” Hawke admitted. “I'd hate to think that he's working with Corypheus. Some of those people volunteered, but none of them knew what was going to happen to them, and it was too late to leave when they found out. No one deserves that, not even him.”

“Come on. No moping. We promised.” Lavellan stated, before standing up and holding out her hand to her. “Want to come look at wedding things with me? We'll scare at least one of them that way.”

Hawke laughed as she grabbed Lavellan's hand and stood up. “Why, Inquisitor, I had no idea you fought dirty.”

“Always!” Lavellan said, with a laugh, and the two women made their way to one of the many bridal shops in Val Royeaux.

* * *

 

“I am confused. Why would Pride be scared of ribbons?” Cole asked, clearly confused, as he walked alongside Solas.

“Well, that depends, Kid.” Varric replied, his lips twitching just a touch. “What else is going on with it?”

“Happy, yet sad. She should **_be_** here. Silk or lace? Ribbons or flowers? So many choices, but what would he like? Would this scare him away? Is it too much?” Cole replied, after a moment, and then looked to Varric. “I don't understand. Why would ribbons scare him away?”

“It's not the ribbons, Kid. It's the dress.” Varric said, knowingly, with a bit of a chuckle.

“Why would someone be scared of a dress?” Cole asked, turning to Solas.

The elf wasn't going to be of any help, not when he saw Flint dressed as she was. A dress shop, the kid had been talking about a dress shop; a wedding dress shop. Chuckles looked like he wasn't breathing, his breath caught in his throat the moment he'd seen her. Then Lightning had come into view, and just like that, Curly was right there with him. It was way too soon for any of that for him, but he knew that Cassandra loved this stuff just as much as Flint and Lightning did…even if she hid it under her bed.

“Ohhhh.” Cole said, looking at how Curly and Chuckles were both reacting. “Should I tell her he isn't afraid?”

“They catch us watching them like this, we'll **_all_** be afraid.” Varric replied. “Help me move them, will you?”

* * *

 

That night caught them all in various stages of thought. Though they had tried to distract themselves throughout the day, none of them were successful for long. Blackwall was being smuggled out of the city, and they were leaving in the morning. Hawke kept Lavellan somewhat distracted, the two of them huddled over her sketchbook as Hawke made corrections to a drawing that neither Solas or Cullen were allowed to see. Hawke had easily whacked Solas on the knuckles with her pencil when he'd tried, and arched an eyebrow at Cullen like she was asking him if he wanted to try his luck; he did not.

Lavellan was blushing more often than not, which confused everyone. Whatever it was they were doing, Hawke and Lavellan weren't sharing. The others decided it was safer just not to chance it, and left things alone after a while. Their fingers would remain intact that way. She only went to bed when she knew she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

The next morning, no one spoke a word. The return to Skyhold, to the Inquisition, and Rainier's sentencing, was more important than anything Hawke was cooking up. They were all lost in their own thoughts as they traveled, and soon each went their separate ways. Lavellan headed straight for Josephine, while the others headed for their own rooms, or baths. The woman refused to let anything keep her down, but Lavellan could tell this got to her.

* * *

 

When Rainier woke up, he was pissed. They'd put something in his food and drink last night. Whatever it was had knocked him out, and he woke up in a new cell. He knew then what they'd done. They'd smuggled him to Skyhold.

He'd known as soon as they'd found him in Val Royeaux that they weren't going to let him go, but that meant another man had died in him place. That was something he'd been trying to prevent, another useless death. Now, he was being half dragged before the Inquisitor for sentencing. He couldn't bear to look at Josephine, knowing that she must be angry with him now. Even Lavellan looked like she was having a hard time reigning things in, though he doubted anyone but those who knew her could see it.

“I must present Captain Thom Rainier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall.” Josephine announced. Her voice sounded strained, as she tried not to let how this bothered her affect her work. “His crimes...” she swallowed hard before continuing. “You are aware of his crimes. It was no small feat bringing him here, but the decision of what to do with him is now yours.”

Lavellan took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. “It brings me no pleasure seeing you like this, Rainier. I wish there could have been another way.”

“You could have left me there!” He shouted, his voice revealing the mixed bag of emotions within him. “I accepted my punishment. I was ready for all this to end. Why would you do this? What is to become of me now?”

Silence was his only answer for a moment, and then came the words he'd likely never forget. “You have your freedom.”

The crowd behind him slowly began to whisper amongst themselves.

“It can not be as simple as that.” Rainer scoffed, shaking his head, confusion clearly heard in his voice.

“No, it isn't.” She agreed, and he looked back up at her as her voice took a hard edge he was not use to hearing from her. “You are free to atone for the man you are. Not the traitor you were, or the Warden you pretended to be. So, now that your life is your own, how will you seek your atonement?”

“The man I am? I barely know him.” He said, as he looked down in shame and thankfulness. “He… ** _I_ ** have a lot to make up for.” He closed his eyes, and swallowed hard before he looked back up to Lavellan. What he was about to say was going to be very difficult. “If my future is truly my own, then I pledge it to the Inquisition. My sword and my life are yours, my lady.”

He bows as the guards unbound his hands, and she smiles at him.

“Then take your post, Rainier.” She stated, with finality, even as the smile faded. “We're done here. Thank you all for being here!”

He went back to the barn where he'd made his room and studio almost as if he were in a daze. He had not been given forgiveness, but he'd been given a chance at it. The man may be many things, but Rainier wasn't foolish enough to waste this chance. Besides, he had Solas in his head reminding him ' _Second chances are not to be taken lightly_ '. The looks of loathing did not escape him, and Rainier wondered just how bad things were going to get before they got better…if they ever did.

“I will admit, I did not expect this.” Solas said, surprising him. Rainier hadn't seen him sitting there in the corner.

“Didn't expect what?” Rainer asked, almost defensively.

“That she would give you your freedom, I had expected.” Solas admitted. “Both _Alhasha_ and Lavellan reacted too strongly to suspect anything else. For you to choose to stay? That, I had not expected. It is a hard road you travel now, my friend.”

“Kind of got that on the way here.” Rainer replied, with a snort. “So, when are you going to tell your secrets to Lavellan?”

“I suspect she may know them already, at least in part; but as long as she does not ask and I do not say, there is plausible deniability.” Solas replied, with a slight smile. “I am uncertain if I should be the one to break it.”

“Why do I always get the feeling like what you say means more than what I catch?” Rainier asked, suddenly.

“Because it does. Isn't that true for everyone?” Solas pointed out, to which Rainier had to nod in admittance. “I am certain that one day, when you look back on this, you will wonder how you ever missed it.”

“Missed what?” Rainier asked, unable to stop himself.

“Everything else I've said.” Solas replied, before standing up to leave. “Be well, Blackwall, and know that you are not alone here.”

With that, he left the man to his thoughts.

* * *

 

Varric stared at the letter one more time, hoping that the words would change. They didn't, but still, a dwarf could hope. Bianca was coming here, and judging by the date of it, she should be here at any moment. He hadn't had any time to prepare, to tell Lavellan, to warn Cassandra. A cough interrupted his thoughts, and when he looked up, his brain just stopped thinking altogether.

Cassandra is in front of him wearing the slinkiest thing he thinks she's ever worn, one of those Antaam-Saar outfits with the ropes along the arms. Everything was black with gold trimming. It displays her well toned stomach muscles quite nicely, and he isn't sure if he'll ever be able to pick his jaw up off the floor. She arches an eyebrow at him, because it's not like he's hidden that fact that he's eyeing her up, but doesn't say anything at first. It's only now that he's noticing how bright her blushing is.

“I take it the armour looks good then?” She asks, after a moment.

“That's armour?” He asks, and tries to clear his throat because that came out a lot more high pitched than he'd meant it to.

“Apparently.” She replied, darkly, thinking that he didn't approve. “This was a terrible Idea. I'm going to go take this off.”

“Not without me, you're not.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, and she turns back around in surprise. “I mean, I…uh… _Andraste's_ **_ass,_** woman, you're gorgeous.”

“Oh good. I thought this was foolish there for a moment.” Cassandra stated, still blushing, before looking at him as if she's had a sudden thought. “You don't mind if I sit with you, do you?”

“I…uh…of course…I mean of course not! Of course you can sit with me.” Varric is more mortified than he has ever been in his life. “Please say something so I'll stop talking.”

“You're adorable when you're all flustered.” She remarked, as she saunters over to him like she's been hunting him. She takes a seat next to him, and wraps an arm around him before he can speak, and rests her head on his shoulder, her legs draped over his own. “This is nice. I see why they suggested it to me.”

“They?” He barely gets out.

“Indeed, dwarf.” Lightning says, startling him, but what she's wearing stops him cold. “They.”

Her outfit is almost as revealing as Cassandra's, though hers is in greens and golds. It suits her tanned complexion, and that's when he realizes he's staring at her too, with Cassandra draped all over him. She's sultry, and she looks at him with a knowing smirk. Cassandra is acting like this is commonplace, and he isn't really sure what to do about it. She sits on the other side of him, and playfully fiddles with the collar of his shirt.

“Um, Lightning? What…what are you doing?” He asked. Warning bells are ringing off in his mind, and he's trying to make sense of it all.

“Nothing at all, Varric.” She replies back, a little too innocently. “Don't you like it?”

“And here I thought you were going to start without me.” Flint remarks, as she saunters into the room, wearing a mischievous smirk…and not much else.

Her outfit is like Cassandra's as well, but hers are black and that deep bright red she likes so much; Highever weave. She's crossing the room, and all Varric can hear is his blood in his ears and the whispers of just about every noble in the Great Hall. Many are wondering what is going on, but all he knows is that Flint just eyed him like he was some kinda man meat before sitting down in front of Cassandra. Her back is to the woman, and she rests her head on his left leg. Josephine walks over from where her desk was, wearing a gold and black version of what the others are wearing, and sits in front of Lightning, holding her clipboard still as she leans comfortably against his right leg.

More and more people are staring, and he's fairly certain he's the colour of a tomato right now. Vivienne walking over wearing a white and silver version of the 'uniform' as he's dubbing it in his mind now. Not to be outdone, she takes a nearby stool and sits behind him above everyone else. It's not long before she's playing with his hair, something he _never_ thought he'd ever imagine her doing.

“Would someone mind telling me what's going on? Am I going to die?” He asks, a little afraid of the answer. “Was there some kind of secret healer scan, and you guys are trying to butter me up before I meet the Maker?” They all start laughing at him.

“Oh, so that's the game this time, is it?” Flint asks, without missing the beat. _What the fuck?_

“Who gets to be the ' _healer_ ' this time though?” Lightning asks, looking across and down to Flint. “You got to play ' _the naughty mage_ ' last time.”

“That's because I'm **_always_** the naughty mage.” Flint replies, in a sultry manner.

“Well, someone has to teach you how to behave, Dear.” Vivienne adds.

“That's it, I **_am_** going to die.” He mutters to himself. In no world does what's happening around him make sense.

“I suppose I'll have to be the one to take care of you.” Cassandra stated, with a reluctant sigh as she traces her fingers across the bare parts of his chest that his tunic reveals. He shutters in spite of himself. “It's not like you ever follow my advice. You never seem to want to stay in bed. I may have to tie you down this time.”

“Oh, the strict healer it is.” Josephine muses. “I don't think we've ever played that game before.”

“Don't worry, dwarf, we'll take care of you.” Vivienne said, suggestively.

* * *

 

Anders isn't sure what he's looking at, but he can't stop staring now that he's started. Solas is talking to him, and try as he might, he can't bring himself to answer the elf. He'd planned on talking to the dwarf about a game of DiamondBack, but now he was frozen in some kind of weird limbo he wasn't sure how to get out of. Hawke, along with most of the other 'Ladies of the Inquisition', was hanging all over Varric like he was some kind of Harem king. Solas walks out of the rotunda, followed by Biscuit, and sees what's going on.

“At least now I know what she made with all that fabric from Val Royeaux.” Solas chuckled slightly. “I wonder how long he's been like that.”

“Maybe ten minutes tops.” Iron Bull answered, as he leaned against the wall by the door to the rotunda, before muttering. “Lucky bastard.”

“Bout time you lot noticed. We didn't think you were ever going to show.” Sera said, with a snort.

“Not sure who'd want to miss this.” Leliana stated, with a smirk as she walked by them……wearing a chain-mail and white version of the antaam-saar. “You should open up your legs a bit more for me, dwarf, I need somewhere to sit too. Don't worry, I won't touch you anywhere…unless of course you want me to.”

“ Solas, I need to talk to you about…” Cullen stated, having come through the rotunda from his office, trailing off when he sees what they're all looking at. “What...What are they doing?”

“Who wants to bet it's a wingman attempt?” Anders asked, a little distractedly.

“Of course it's a wingman attempt.” Dorian scoffed, as he walked out of the rotunda from the Library. “What are they do…Oh…that woman is going to be spitting nails when she sees this.”

“There is a rather angry look'n dwarven chic over there.” Sera noted, with amusement.

“I don't think I've ever been in this position before.” Cullen admitted, unable to look away from Lavellan. “Should we say something? Do we act angry at him, or wish we were him?”

“Nah, let him live the dream.” Iron Bull chuckled. “He looks like he's in pain anyway.”

“Oh, he is.” Solas chuckled in agreement. Dorian is snickering in the background.

* * *

 

If Bianca has said anything of importance, Varric can't seem to make himself pay attention to it. The others are doing small little distracting things every time she talks. Cassandra is caressing his chest still, and he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but he could swear she was nibbling on one of his earlobes every so often. Vivienne is giving him the best neck massage he's had in ages, while Lightning seems focused on massaging his arm and hand. Flint and Leliana focus on massaging his lower legs, and Josephine looks at Bianca expectantly, as if this were all normal.

“Who are you all anyway?” Bianca is practically seething.

“Oh, us?” Lightning asks, a little too innocently.

“Why that's simple really, darling.” Vivienne replies, with her cool air of condescension.

“We are 'the Ladies of the Inquisition'.” Leliana adds coyly.

“And this man is ours.” Cassandra said, pointedly.

“Run along now.” Flint adds, though her voice dips to something filled with warning and promise, somehow still remaining sultry as well. “Don't worry. We'll get to you soon enough.”

Bianca looks angry enough to kill, but she can't do anything here. She glares at them all, before calmly making her way out of the building. The women are laughing so hard, they actually do end up hanging off of him for support. It dawns on him finally, just what they've done, and he can't believe they would pull together to do something like this for him. He can't believe Cassandra agreed to it either.

“That worked out splendidly.” Josephine remarks, after getting up. Vivienne agrees with her, already on her way to change into something 'more fit to be seen in'.

“I do love it when a good plan comes together.” Flint hums, winking at some of the orlesian ladies, who promptly turn towards themselves as if they hope to hide the fact that they've been listening in. “You ladies were absolutely wonderful.”

The others begin going back to whatever it is they normally did, leaving behind a very confused and frustrated dwarf. It's not like anyone touched anywhere inappropriately, but with Cassandra there as she was, doing what she was doing, it was like sensory overload. By the time he's calm enough to think with his actual brain, all the women are gone, Cassandra included; not that she hadn't smirked at him as she left. However, he is not alone. Some of the guys had taken seats from near the hearth, and were now camped around him as if waiting for him to say something.

Solas just looks at him with knowing eyes, as a mischievously evil grin spreads across his face until something like Flint's wolfish grin is there as he asks. “So, how were they?”

That seemed to break the ice around the others, and now everyone is laughing so hard they can't see straight.

“I hate you, Chuckles.” Varric says, even as he's laughing at him. “I hate you so much.”

* * *

 

“ _Lath'in_ , that was…wicked of you…” Solas remarked, as he walked into the courtyard where he found Alhasha sitting near the training dummies, only she didn't respond, and now he's feeling her fear radiating out to him. “ _Lath'in_ , what is wrong?… _Lath'in_?”

Worry takes hold of him as he realizes she isn't responding to anything. She's too busy shaking as she stares at a piece of paper in her hand. He's kneeling in front of her, trying to get her to react to him, to say something. She's trying to breathe, but it catches every time, and she looks set to hit a full blown panic if he can't think of someway to pull her out of it. Solas knows that her magic is strong enough that if she were to project it uncontrollably, it could destroy Skyhold.

“Flint?…” Varric asks, as he's walking up, taking in Alhasha's ever growing panic and Solas' worry, before calmly walking over and sitting down next to her. He's taken the hand not holding onto the letter into his own. “Hawke, I need you to concentrate on your breathing. Can you do that for me?”

He somehow sees that she isn't going to be able to get her breathing under control on her own, and places her hand on Solas's shirt; right above where the jawbone necklace rests.

“Copy his breathing. You can get through this.” Varric said, keeping his voice calm and soothing. In quieter tones, he whispers to Solas. “Slow deep breaths, Solas. Try to send calm through that bond thing of yours.” Looking back to Alhasha, he continues. “What helps you? What do you need?”

“ _Min tas…dy vara._ ” Alhasha manages, and relief flood through him. It isn't much, but he holds onto it, sending it to her every time she repeats the words.

**_This too…shall pass._ **

She slowly seems to calm enough to come back to herself, but the sight of the paper makes her shake again. Unsure of what else to do, Solas places his hand over the one holding the paper.

“Whatever it is, _ara lath_ , we will make it through.” Solas states, trying to keep his tone soothing. “You are strong enough to weather this.”

“Vael…is in Skyhold…” Alhasha manages. Solas moves from where he'd been kneeling, sitting next to her as he gently pulls her into his arms. “He left this…wanted me to see him…to be there…negotiate…Skyhold…Lavellan…”

“Varric.” Solas said, calling the dwarf's attention, as he gently took the letter from the woman in his arms. “Read this. We need to know what it is that has upset her to this point.” The dwarf gives a quick nod as he takes the letter, and Solas returns his attentions to Alhasha. “Tell me what you need, _Lath'in._ I do not know what to do.”

“I'll be fine…” She tries to convince him. “I just…need a minute.” He is not convinced, but understands that even now she is trying to comfort him.

“ _Lath'in_ , let me help you.” Solas murmured into her hair. “You do not have to go through this alone.”

“Solas…it's bad.” She tries to tell him. “He wants…he wants…”

“Shit.” Varric curses, bringing Solas' attention to him. “She's right, Solas, this is bad.”

“What is it? What does he want now?” Solas asked, unconsciously tightening his grip on Alhasha.

“To reveal who you are to the Inquisition, to have you tried for your crimes against the Divine.” Varric said, looking from him to the letter and back again. “He claims to have proof this time. From the looks of things, he still wants Hawke, and he plans on destroying you to do it.”

“ _Fenedhis_.” He cursed to himself, before looking over to Varric again. “He will want to meet then. When? Is there enough time to talk to Lavellan beforehand?”

“A little. Not enough.” Varric replied. Solas' mind was working rapidly now, trying to think of something to help her.

“Send for her. Tell her it's urgent. If she's received a summons by Vael as Alhasha has, she'll understand.” Solas replied, before scooping the woman up into his arms. “We will be in our room. Tell her to meet us there at once.”

* * *

 

“You are worried…for me?” Solas asked, when he set her down in their room. Hawke nodded, even as she quickly raced to find more suitable clothes, considering she was still wearing the antaam-saar. “ _Alhasha_ , you told me that one day it might come to this. That it has taken him this long to find proof of who I am…It is time we should not expected to have. You were right. Lavellan should know, and I hate that I waited until Vael sent you into a panic to do this.”

She still shook, even as she changed into something that covered just about everything. It was foolish of her, she knew, but she didn't want Vael to see a single bit of her. He always looked like he was secretly trying to devour her with his eyes, and it made her feel dirty. It did not feel the same when Solas looked at her like that, because there was love mixed in, along with admiration and respect. Vael would still make her feel like she were cheap, even in this.

“ _Ar'an shor rosa'sule'din min, ara lath'in._ ” Solas insisted, when she still looked unsure. “ _Na shaesi vol. Ar'an ane soun'aelyl._ ”

**_We will survive this, my place where love lives – You were right. We are strong enough_ **

“Hawke? Solas? It's me. Can I come in?” Lavellan called from outside of the door, only moments later. “Varric said this was urgent. I only just got the message. There's something I need to tell you.”

“We know, _Lethal'lan_.” Solas explained, as he opened the door to allow Lavellan in. “We have something to tell you as well.”

“I just got the message that Vael is in Skyhold, and he wants to meet with me.” Lavellan said, looking a bit puzzled as she paced the room. “He's been to the War Room already, left a painting dating back to the time of _Elvhenan_ , and it looks…it looks a **_lot_** like the two of you.”

“That's because it is.” Solas replied, quietly.

* * *

 

Lavellan sat down instantly, thanking the Creators that there was a chair right behind her. She had to have heard wrong. Honestly, she'd had her theories, but for Solas to just blurt it out like that. Technically, he hasn't said anything yet, but it was enough. With a sigh, she looked at them both, and knew she wouldn't be able to keep her theories to herself any longer.

“ _Sulahn'ean_.” She said, looking over to Hawke. “I heard him call you _Sulahn'ean_ , and it reminded me of a story from my childhood. There has only ever been one, out of respect or fear, I'm not sure. But I read the story again, and too much fit. The way you got sent back to ancient _Arlathan_ , the way you and Solas are around each other, too much fit. If you are truly that _Sulahn'ean_ , then you” Lavellan turns her head to Solas. “are _Fen'harel_.”

“Yes.” Solas answered, with a sigh. “I am.”

“ _Fenedhis._ I've been trying to wrap my mind around that for months, but for you to just…” Lavellan exclaimed, and then sighed. “There's more, isn't there? Vael wouldn't come here with this, with proof, unless he was sure it could ruin you and give him Hawke. What did you do?”

“Are you sure you want to know, _Lethal'lan_?” Solas asked, giving her a way out, she supposed.

“If I'm to come up with something in order to deal with Vael? Yeah. I need to know, Solas, everything.” Lavellan insisted, trying to remain in Inquisitor mode. “Sorry, it's just too weird to call you _Fen'harel_ for me.”

“That is alright, _Lethal'lan._ I prefer _Solas_ anyway. It was my name, after all, before the title of _Fen'harel_ was given.” Solas explained, and sat down in a chair nearby. He took her hand into his own, the one with the mark, and said the words that changed her life forever. “This is mine.”

“I'm sorry?” She was a bit confused. He couldn't mean…

“The anchor, the magic that exists within this mark is mine. It is why I was able to keep it from killing you before.” He replied, carefully. She listened as he explained the Foci, the indirect leading of the Venatori, the explosion of the Conclave, scrambling around to fix his mistake, finding Hawke, the spell that took Hawke to ancient Arlathan, everything. “ _Lethal'lan_ , there is nothing I can say that will make this right, that will correct what I have done, but this is not about me. This is about _Alhasha_ , all of it. I can not tell you what to do now, but I ask that you keep her safe from him, should you choose to sentence me.”

“The deaths of the Divine, all those people, was done before your memories returned to you?” She asked, not answering him.

“Yes.” He said, and she's unsure if she's ever heard his voice as quiet as it is now.

“Is it something you would do now that you have them?” She asked, trying to keep her mind from being overwhelmed.

“No. _Alhasha_ is too important to me to risk that.” Solas replied. “ _Lethal'lan_ , I…”

“You realize this is your fault, at least twice over?” She asked, looking to him now, her eyes searching his. He looked tired.

“Yes, _Lethal'lan_.” He replied, with a slight nod.

“You were right, this is a lot.” She murmured, looking away, but a sudden thought had her head shooting up to look at him again. “How did he get to you before?”

“We were in the Fade. There was a pricking sensation on my neck. I was on the ship before I woke up.” He answered, and waited.

“And the torture?” She asked. She didn't have to elaborate.

“Magebane. Some had to have been in my system already, and I was supplied with an alarmingly large quantity of it at a steady rate.” Solas replied. “I suspect _Alhasha_ was the only reason I was able to keep my mind at all.”

“Lavellan, please…I know it's unfair to ask, but…” Hawke tried to plead, but Lavellan held up her hand to stop her.

“We are going to deal with Vael, and then afterwords, the three of us are going to lock ourselves in a room and have a very _very_ long conversation.” Lavellan stated, keeping her eyes closed. It helped her think. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.” Hawke said, quietly, her voice shaking. Lavellan looked up to see how truly nervous the young woman was.

“I need a minute to think.” Lavellan stated, closing her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. When she looked back up, they each had an arm around each other as they looked to her. “Alright, you two, here's what we're going to do.”

 

 

 

 


	38. Lavellan's Plan, Solas' Improve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her plan is crazy, and simple, and Solas just has to have an idea.

Chapter 38

 

Her plan was insane. She wanted him to…to just…He'd allowed it to play out this way, having people find out on their own or through circumstance, but this? How could she expect him to just…to just… ** _tell_** them? The only reason he'd ever told any of them himself was because something had affected Alhasha, but even now he wasn't sure he could do this, and he was so lost in his own thoughts now that he didn't hear Alhasha calling him until she cupped his face in her hands.

“Solas, it can't be avoided any longer.” She said, gently, before kissing his forehead. “It **_has_** to be now.”

“ _Te na vaelia dhrua ra_?” He asked, defensively, feeling cornered and caged.

**_Do you really believe that?_ **

“ _Te na dhrua'em, Ara'nas?_ ” Alhasha asked, tenderly. He did, of course he did, he thought as he slowly nodded. “ _Ar isalan na dhrua'em min_. You said so yourself, you believe us strong enough.”

**_Do you trust me? - I need you to trust me now_ **

“ _Ar dhrua'na._ That does not make me any less nervous about this, _Lath'in._ ” Solas admitted, with a sigh and a shaky smile, and turned his attention to Lavellan. “You're sure this will work? This will protect _Alhasha_?”

**_I trust you_ **

“It will work. Whether it protects Hawke entirely is another matter.” Lavellan informed him. “It will give the two of you more options, at the very least. Now, who do you need?”

“Commander Cullen, Seeker Cassandra, Sister Leliana, Blackwall, and Morrigan; Josephine and Vivienne too, if you like.” Solas replied, after a thought.

“You mean to tell me the others…” Lavellan asked, trailing off.

“Either knew or suspected long before you did.” Solas replied, with a nod. “ _Ir abelas_ , _Lethal'lan._ ”

**_I'm sorry, respected kin_ **

“It's just…a lot to take in…” Lavellan said, trying to gather her thoughts. “How?…Wait a minute, does **_Fenris_** know?!”

“Fenris was the first to know, actually.” He replied, surprising her. “I wanted his blessing, after all.”

“And the others?” Lavellan asked, with uncertainty.

“Iron Bull found out just before Haven fell, but hid under plausible deniability till what happened to me in Kirkwall.” Solas explained. “Varric and Dorian found out on the trip to _Arlathan_ , because I thought it was the only way to explain why _Alhasha_ was where and when she was. Anders found out just before we brought him to Skyhold, because I threatened him within an inch of his sanity if he could not keep her alive. Sera found out at the Winter Palace in _Halam'shiral._ I thought I would need assistance with trying to find _Alhasha_ , and Vael couldn't stop talking.”

“And she hasn't **_said_** anything?” Lavellan asked, incredulously.

“She didn't want to seem like an 'elfy elf'.” Solas supplied, with a slight grin. Lavellan had to chuckle a little at that.

“Alright, meet me at the _el'u'vi'an._ I'll go get the others. We'll get this done quickly, and then deal with Vael.” Lavellan stated, and headed out the door.

“Do you really think this will work, _Lath'in_?” Solas asked, and was shocked when she bit the tip of his ear hard. **“ _Ow!_** _Lath'in_ , that **_hurts!_** Alright, alright, I get it. Do not doubt my _nas'falon._ ”

“Good.” She replied, teasingly, and then began to kiss along his ear to soothe it.

“It's just…what I will need to do, _Lath'in_ …” He began, not sure if there were words.

“I can't believe you haven't figured it out already, _Ara'nas._ ” She whispered. “What was it you said before? If there was anyone who could think of how to save both worlds…?”

“It would be you.” He said, finishing her sentence, before standing up. “ _Ir abelas, ara lath'in_.”

“For what?” Alhasha asked, in confusion.

“Ever doubting you.” He answered, just before giving in to his desire to kiss her.

* * *

 

In an out of the way room by the garden, where the el'u'vi'an was kept, Solas and Hawke sat in front of five people who had been called away from other things and were now staring at the two of them in confusion. Lavellan walked in with Cullen, and nodded to Solas, who was trying to put off his nerves by playing with Biscuit. She'd not told any of them why they needed to be there, in case they were overheard by one of Vael's men. They, of course, had recognized her serious Inquisitor face, and agreed without question. Josephine had protested a little, thinking she couldn't be pulled away from her work, but came regardless.

“I'm sure you all know by now that Vael is in Skyhold.” Lavellan stated. “He is here for Hawke, because he thinks he can get her by destroying any reputation or friendship you have built with Solas.”

“That is preposterous.” Cassandra scoffs.

“Is it, Seeker?” Solas asked, impassively. “Are your opinions of the Lord Seeker still what they were after finding out about **_his_** betrayal?”

“But that…!” She went to object, but stopped as she realized he was right. “Then you…Solas, what did you do? How many ways could **_you_** possibly have betrayed us? Just what proof does Vael have of these supposed transgressions?”

“I suppose that depends on what you see as betrayal, Seeker.” Solas replied, as if he were talking about the weather. “After all, I **_am_** known as the 'great betrayer', the reason why _Elvhenan_ fell and the supposed _elvhen_ pantheon are locked away.”

“You can't possibly be serious.” Cassandra denied instantly.

“What proof do you need, Seeker?” Solas asked, arrogantly, as his eyes flashed the molten silver. “Did you **_really_** think 'I saw it in the Fade' covers everything that I know? That I can 'sense' the _elvhen_ artifacts that strengthen the Veil? Who do you think put them there? _Fen'harel_ was a name given to me by my enemies, and so I made them fear me for it, even as I brought hope to my people; but not all is all as the stories say. When _Alhasha_ was taken by that rift in Redcliffe, she was dropped in ancient _Arlathan._ She warned me what would happen here, but by then I loved her already, and I could not risk her timeline for the hopeful promise of a better future for those I did not yet know. I erected the Veil anyway, because it was the only way to save my people even as it damned them, because it was the only way I would get to see her again. I took her memories and forgot them, and wandered the Fade in _uth'then'era_ , angry without fully knowing why. But if that were the worst of it, Vael would not be here as he is, and I would likely have procrastinated in telling you all this as I am now.”

“Just what proof does he have on you that you are who you say you are?” Leliana asked, reminding him that he had not answered that one yet.

“I'm sure you've noticed the fresco's in the rotunda.” Solas replied, with a sigh. “When _Alhasha_ was trying to…work around my stubborn nature, she came upon my studio. I had started a painting of her. It became a way of conversation for us without actually speaking or seeing each other, and became a painting of the two of us dancing in a ballroom. When it was completed, I spelled it away to a time when what it showed me be could be true, because I did not believe it ever could be. Somehow, Vael has managed to find it, and it now sits in the War Room. It has apparently been authenticated as being from the time of Arlathan. What other proof he has, I do not know, but even that is not what will damn me in your eyes.”

“ _Ara'nas_ , they will need to know. If the Inquisitor's plan is to work, you need to tell them.” Hawke said, quietly.

He squeezed her hand a little more tightly for the reassurance, before continuing on. “Though Corypheus is directly responsible for the death of the Divine, and the destruction of the Conclave, it was **_my_** people that slowly lead the Venatori to it in the first place. The Foci he used contained a great deal of my power, and I knew it would kill him when he activated it. Only, he didn't die, and the backlash of power destroyed the Conclave. At the time, I viewed the loss of so much life as collateral damage. I was still without a large portion of my memories, and did not realize I could have very well killed my _nas'falon_ had it succeeded. You are all in this mess because of me, because of what I tried to do while I could not remember _Alhasha_.”

The shouts of outrage came all at once, and Hawke stayed by his side even so. Cassandra and Leliana were understandably upset, the Divine had meant much to them. The others were outraged he could be so cavalier about so many deaths at all, looking as though he only regretted it because he could have lost Hawke before he'd remembered her. He probably shouldn't have said that, but they'd needed to know, to get this out of their systems before Vael was dealt with. Something was going to have to change soon, Lavellan knew, if they were going to get the ball rolling on this.

“ _That_ _is_ _**enough!**_ **”** Solas shouted, the power in his voice alone booming enough to shock them into silence, before he himself had to take a second to calm down before continuing. “I did not tell you this so that you could take out your anger. I told you this, so that you could put it aside for now, not be surprised by whatever he tells you, and help me keep _Alhasha_ **_safe!_** That is my main concern now. When Vael has been dealt with, I will submit to any sentence The Inquisitor deems fit.”

“You would really do that?” Lavellan asked, in surprise. “I know you said it before, but I wasn't sure if you meant it or not.”

“Yes, _Lethal'lan_.” Solas insisted. “Now, can we please…for _Alhasha_ …I can not force any of you to help us, but I would ask… _ **please**_ …”

* * *

 

He hated feeling this emotionally exposed, would rather just kill Vael himself, but Lavellan had insisted this plan was for the best. Alhasha had reminded him that he'd agreed that they were strong enough, that they could weather this, but even so he'd had different ideas about just how to **_do_** that. With her eyes pleading at him the way they had, he'd found that he could not deny her. Doubting her had come with a price he was no longer willing to pay. Whatever the cost of this, Solas knew that Alhasha did not doubt him, something which was both freeing and humbling in its way; a trust he had not known in Ages.

The others had stopped shouting, but most were talking amongst themselves as they tried to decide what to do. They did not have time for this, but he was forced to admit this was partially his fault. Had he but told them sooner, this would not be happening now. It was Blackwall that approached him first, eyeing him with curiosity, as if wondering where the boogeyman was hiding. After a moment, however, the man simply stuck his hand out to him.

“If it wasn't for you talking to me, reminding me I wasn't alone, I probably would have left.” Blackwall stated. “My mistakes came with a death toll, and yet you insisted I not waste the second chance, that I could speak with you if it was ever needed. I offer you the same courtesy.”

“…Thank you, Blackwall.” Solas said, surprised but appreciative, as he shook the man's hand.

“And you, you knew this whole time, didn't you?” Blackwall said, looking to Alhasha, with a bit of a chuckle.

“Most of it.” Alhasha admitted, with a slight blush. “Some of it I didn't find out till much later.”

“You knew, this whole time, and yet you said nothing?!” Cassandra asked, not knowing whether to be hurt or angry.

“I keep secrets, Cassandra. It's what I've always done.” Alhasha said, with downcast eyes. “Though I did not know her, I mourned Justinia just as I mourned Elthina. Both were killed by the actions of men I care for, that acted without full knowledge of self. Is that so shocking?”

“Seeker, though your anger is understandable, it is misplaced.” Solas stated, making her focus on him. “ _I_ am the one responsible, no matter how indirectly, and it is **_me_** who should be the focus of your anger now.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “That you could keep this from us…I will help you for Hawke, but I do not know what to think, about you or her.”

“Actually, if I didn't already have you helping out my agents, Hawke, I would seriously think about offering you a permanent position.” Leliana stated, after a thought. “A good agent, who will keep even the most volatile of secrets, is hard to find.”

“You are okay with this?!” Cassandra asked, turning to Leliana. “He's the reason we started the Inquisition!”

“I have made my peace with Justinia's death.” Leliana stated, with finality. “We can only move forward from here.”

“Cullen?…Morrigan?…Vivienne?” Alhasha called out to them in meek nervousness, something he never wanted to see from her again. “You three haven't said anything.”

“It does certainly explain how you would know my mother.” Morrigan remarked, with some amusement.

“My dear, if there were ever better players of The Game than the two of you, I have not met them.” Vivienne stated, sounding strangely like she admired them.

“I can't process this right now.” Cullen said, sternly. “Focus on Vael. I'll reserve my opinion for when I've had more time to think on it.”

“Alright. Now that everyone's up to speed, here's what I need you to do.” Lavellan stated, taking over, detailing the plan for them.

* * *

 

Anders is shaking, he's so angry. For the past several minutes, Vael has been walking around Skyhold like he owns it. The nobles are practically eating out of his hand. It was disgusting how they pandered to him. It didn't help that every so often, that rat bastard would look over to him with a knowing smirk.

Thanks to Cole, no one else was surprised by Vael's visit to Skyhold. He thanked the Maker that Hawke hadn't walked in here yet, and he couldn't even begin to wonder what Solas was going to do when he saw Vael here. He was surprised to note that the 'King' of Starkhaven only brought a few guards with him, wondering if maybe he thought himself above the need for them. However, he also noticed they were strategically placed, and wondered if that was done with the intention of keeping everyone here in or the others out. A noise at the main entrance draws his attention, as well as everyone else in the room.

The Inquisitor Lavellan walks into the room with a confidant air. Behind her, he sees Cassandra and Morrigan, Cullen and Vivienne; each on either side of Hawke and Solas, as if guarding them. Behind them is Leliana and Blackwall, both with stern expressions, as if they knew where this was headed. Considering the grim looks they all wore, they probably did. When Vael stepped up to speak with Inquisitor Lavellan, to Anders' surprise, Josephine was already next to him.

“Inquisitor, may I introduce to you Sebastian Vael, King of Starkhaven.” Josephine greeted diplomatically. “King Vael, this is Inquisitor Lavellan.”

“I'm afraid I've not had the pleasure.” Vael replied, with a polite bow.

“Shall we then? I believe you requested a meeting with me.” Lavellan stated, continuing the diplomatic air.

“Just how many templars did you bring with you, Vael?” Cullen asked, looking to Vael's men; who had started shifting a bit uncomfortably when they noticed his glaring.

“A precautionary measure, I assure you.” Vael remarked, as they all began making their way to the War Room.

“I find myself not assured, Vael.” Lavellan remarked, with a telling smirk. “But if you view them as essential to your safety as King, then by all means, assure yourself.”

* * *

 

It amazed Blackwall that Hawke and Solas stood calm and collected in the face of this. Even as powerful and as strong as she was, Hawke panicked at the sight of this Vael. At the Winter Palace, Blackwall had not been able to help, too caught up in hiding from his own demons, but he was here now, and would help in any way he could. What surprised him most was that Solas wasn't giving in to his desire to slaughter the man in front of him, only the hard edge to his gaze giving him away. Blackwall wondered what could make him refrain from doing anything, when Leliana nudged him subtlety and gestured slightly with her hands.

When he looked to where she'd gestured, he saw Solas had intertwined his fingers with Hawke's own. It was the barest of touches, almost unseen by anyone else, but it was enough. So that's why neither were reacting the way he would have expected, Blackwall mused. The comfort they took from and gave to each other was enough to at least postpone the inevitable. When they were finally in the War Room, Vael seemed annoyed that the Inquisitor was not alone, as if they would leave her alone with what they knew. Vael had a few of his 'guards' in the room, so he could not claim he was without allies.

“Hawke, I'm sorry it's come to this, but you leave me no choice.” Vael began.

“Do not think you can talk to her with such familiarity.” Solas stated, angrily, cutting him off. “We know why you are here.”

“I suppose you would, Fen'harel.” Vael spat, but his words did not have the desired effect. The room remained unmoved. “You knew? I knew you knew of Hawke's crimes, that you willingly harbored her from being put on trial, but this? Do you know what he's done?!”

“Please, do you think he could have gone without us finding out forever?” Leliana asked, arching an eyebrow at the man, coolly. Never mind that they had only been informed a few minutes ago, that woman played it so well even Blackwall was thinking she might have known ahead of time. “You have been shouting about Fen'harel for some time now. If we had not already been informed, your ravings would have alerted us to the possibility, at the very least.”

“Solas, look…” Hawke whispered, pointing to the painting. “I never thought I'd see it again.”

“Indeed, _Sulahn'ean,_ it is a comfort to see this again.” Solas stated, suddenly brimming with a regal air Blackwall did not remember him having a few minutes ago. “We should thank you, Vael, for returning this to us. How did you come by it, if I may ask?”

Vael looked livid, but calmly replied. “I found it when searching Arlathan.”

“Then you have our thanks for returning it to us.” Solas remarked, as he walked towards the painting with his arm around Hawke's waist. “Count yourself lucky that our thanks is all you have, and go. Unless, you have something else to say?”

“You are responsible for the death of the Divine. She is responsible for the death of Grand Cleric Elthina. Did you really think I would just walk away?” Vael growled. “Even if I can not get them to hand you over, I will not walk out of here empty handed. I will have her arrested and tried, and I will have you killed.”

“King or not, you do not have that authority here.” Cassandra declared, her sword already drawn and pointing at the man.

“Seeker, I would advice you to remember your place.” Vael growled.

“I know where my place is, and it is between you and them.” Cassandra stated, firmly, never wavering. She might be angry at them, but she had given her word. “Even if they were not who they were, your actions have been deplorable. You are not worthy of the Crown of Starkhaven.”

“The Chantry does not support you.” Vael reminded her, as if attempting to sway her.

“The Chantry has **_never_** supported us. You'll have to do better than that.” Cassandra retorted with a scoff.

“Do you know what he said to me, how he plans on restoring his world, the damage that will cause?” Vael shouted now.

“All said under the duress of torture, no doubt.” Cullen remarked, angrily. “A man will say anything if you press him hard enough.”

“He will rip apart the Veil, and destroy our world to restore his own.” Vael insisted, getting more angry with each attempt to sway them.

“I have been convinced that that is no longer the best course of action.” Solas stated. Vael scoffed in disbelief, and the others looked on thoughtfully. “My crimes are my own, and I will submit myself to the Inquisitor's judgement, as it is because of my actions the Inquisition was created.”

“That doesn't excuse Hawke her actions. She allowed Grand Cleric Elthina to die, and so she will be tried for High Treason against Starkhaven. If you die, so much the better.” Vael stated, not backing down. His men readied their weapons.

“There isn't a person in here that doesn't know why you really want the girl.” Vivienne revealed. “Did you think she wouldn't tell anyone?”

“I suggest you back down, Vael, while you can still leave here with your dignity.” Lavellan warned. “The only reason I even agreed to this meeting was so that you would know that _Fen'harel_ and _Sulahn'ean_ have the support of the Inquisition, and that any actions you take against them from now on will be considered an act of war on behalf of Starkhaven. Are you really willing to go that far?”

“You dirty knife-eared bitch!” Vael shouted angrily, losing all sense of civility as he made to attack her; right before Cullen threw his whole body into punching that man in the face with a right hook, knocking the man out cold.

“I suggest you take your king home.” Lavellan said, looking to Vael's men. “He is not of sound mind, and should not have made the trip. I would suggest looking for a new King, but that is not my place to say.”

* * *

 

“That was quite the right hook, Commander.” Solas noted, with a slight bit of humour, once Vael's men had carted him out of the room. Even his hadn't knocked Vael out like that when he'd hit him.

“Maker, that felt good.” Cullen admitted, before looking to him. “I can see why you did that back at the Winter Palace. Magic can do a lot, but there's nothing quite like punching someone in the face like that.”

“Indeed.” Solas replied, unable to hold in his grin any longer.

“Alright, Solas, now that that's done, we'll need to have that conversation.” Lavellan stated, reminding him. “You're all more than welcome to stay. If you want to get out your questions and arguments, now is the time.”

“I believe I'll leave this one to you.” Blackwall replied. “I'm sure the others are wondering what went on in here.”

Cassandra elected to stay, no surprise there. Cullen wanted to ask more questions, and so he too decided to stay. Leliana did not seem to need it, and so she left. Morrigan and Vivienne decided to stay, both for different reasons. Josephine opted to stay, though she was more interested in taking notes that Solas had no doubt would end up in the hands of the dwarf later.

* * *

 

Varric wasn't sure what to think when Blackwall and Leliana walked out. Everyone had watched Vael get carted out by his own men, though it was doubtful he would leave that way. He could only guess what Lavellan had wanted with Cassandra and the others. That they guarded Hawke and Solas seemed to answer at least some of that. He and Iron Bull had made bets with some of the others on the outcome of the meeting, but it hadn't helped get rid of the nerves the way that usually did.

“What happened in there?” Varric asked, more nervous than he'd like to admit. “Who punched Vael in the face?”

“That would be our esteemed Commander.” Blackwall remarked, with a chuckle. “Seems Vael thought it a good idea to insult our Inquisitor.”

“What about Flint and Chuckles? What did they **_tell_** you?” Varric asked, looking from one to the other.

“Probably the same thing they told you. Cassandra's pissed by the way.” Blackwall replied. “I get why you didn't say anything. That's some secret, that's for sure.”

“What do you think they will end up doing now?” Leliana wondered.

“Now that our dear Inquisitor knows?” Dorian asked, looking thoughtful. “Probably exactly what I told him not to do. Run.”

“I doubt it.” Iron Bull said, still looking towards the door. “I get that his nature is to deflect and hide, but I don't think he will this time.”

“Why is that, Tiny?” Varric asked, intrigued.

“It matters now, more so than it ever has.” Iron Bull insisted, knowingly. “He'll stay, because it's Hawke that will be affected if he doesn't.”

“He'd better.” Dorian replied, and they settled down into waiting again.

Not long after that, Cassandra and the others walked out. She didn't look near as angry as he'd expected her to be, but her thin lipped expression told him she was still unhappy. Vivienne and Leliana talked amongst themselves, and Morrigan simply looked thoughtful as they all waited for Hawke and the others. The woman in question was out a moment later, but she was alone. She looked nervous, the way she had at the Winter Palace, when she made her way to them.

“He wanted to talk with them alone.” She stated, answering the question Varric had wanted to ask. “I don't know what about though, but he seems extremely nervous about it, and I'm babbling again, aren't I?”

“Just a little.” Varric replied, with a slight grin.

“I can't help it, Varric, I'm **_worried_.”** Flint admitted, her eyes darting back to the door. “I've always told him he should tell everyone the truth about who he was and everything, but even so…He's never been as exposed as he is now. What if it was a mistake? What if my advice ends up killing him? I thought having all of Thedas angry at **_me_** was bad. That will be **_nothing_** compared to what he'll have to face now.”

“It is no more than he deserves.” Cassandra snapped, but then looked guilty when she saw the glare Varric was giving her and the saddened look on Flint's face as she stared at the door to the War Room. “Even so, I can understand your worry for him.”

* * *

 

The door opens, but something isn't right. He doesn't make his way to her, and his arms are…bound? His wrists have been clapped in irons, and Cullen is leading him away. The nobles are talking amongst themselves loudly, all of them wondering what the mysterious mage Solas did to get taken to the cells. She's across the room before anyone can think to stop her.

“What are you doing?” Hawke demanded, angrily glaring at Cullen. “Why are you arresting Solas?”

“It is important that this be done properly.” Cullen tried to explain, but Hawke refused to budge.

“My foot's going to become **_properly_** lodged up the crack of your ass if you don't explain to me just what the fuck you think you're doing, Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” Hawke growled, in warning.

“ _Lath'in_ , please, do not interfere. I asked for this.” Solas insisted, pleading with her to understand, but she couldn't.

“You **_asked_** for this?” She asked, appalled and worried all at once. “Why would you ask to be arrested?!”

“I can not be sentenced if I am not arrested, _Alhasha_.” Solas stated, quietly.

“It will be alright, Hawke. I will see to it that he is not mistreated.” Cullen promised, clearly trying to calm her down.

“Plan to stand guard over him yourself, do you?” She countered, fixing him with her glare. She didn't believe he'd be safe for one minute.

“If that is what it takes, Hawke, yes.” Cullen replied, and he began guiding Solas away. “You will be able to see him as soon as I get him settled. I'll send someone up to let you know.”

Hawke stood frozen as Cullen took Solas away. She couldn't seem to make herself move, watching them until they were out of sight. Her mind raced with possible escape plans, each one thrown out the window, because she knew he could escape if he really wanted. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that he would volunteer for this, and knew that he wouldn't let her try to break him out. It wasn't until Cassandra started speaking that she realized anyone was even next to her.

“Why is Cullen taking him to the cells?” She asked, in confusion.

“Apparently, he **_asked_** to be arrested.” Hawke replied, surprised at the amount of venom in her words. The woman actually flinched at them. “It's not like this place could actually hold him if he chose to escape, and yet he asked for this, said he couldn't be sentenced if he wasn't arrested.”

“His way to atone.” Blackwall said, in realization. “Before you all had me brought back, he said something about that. He said it was never you he had to worry about knowing, that you were his way back. He's convinced he deserves death for his actions, but living with the things he's done is his atonement. Facing them? That's something else entirely.”

* * *

 

“You're sure this is a good idea?” Cullen asked, as they walked to the cells. “Hawke didn't seem too pleased.”

“You sound nervous, Commander.” Solas noted, with some amusement.

“Yes, well you're not the one who's ass crack was threatened with proper boot placement.” Cullen remarked, dryly. “Forgive me if I'm a little more nervous than you seem to be.”

“To be fair, that woman has attacked me outright in a fit of rage, so I can understand your concern.” Solas replied, trying to keep the humour out of his voice. “In hindsight, maybe I should not have asked her to leave before discussing this with you and the Inquisitor.”

“Maybe for her peace of mind, but isn't this the exact reaction we need her to have?” Cullen replied, sounding doubtful. Solas stood off to the side as Cullen unlocked the cell for him, before stepping inside. Once Cullen had unlocked the irons, Solas stepped back further, and the door was closed. “Solas…You said Fen'harel was a name given to you…How did that even happen?”

“The way these things usually do…A war.” Solas stated, unbothered by the question. He sat down on the bed as he settled in to answer more thoroughly. “Like _Alhasha,_ I am _fenin._ It was easy to use such a form in battle, to defend and bring hope, as well as attack and strike fear. Our enemies began to call me _Fen'harel._ They didn't know what to do when I took to using it as my title.”

“What about…” Cullen began, not knowing how to put it in words, but Solas guessed his intent.

“If you are going to ask me if the Maker truly exists, I do not know.” Solas stated, not unkindly. “Though we were the first of our people, there were others before us, a different people. The stories say these people spoke with a being without form. Even the spirits we see have a form, if not one that we can touch, so perhaps it is possible that it was your Maker that spoke to them. As Immortals, we may not die, but we can be killed; so maybe one day I will have a more accurate answer for you about whether or not the Maker exists at all. If I could tell you for certain, would it solidify your faith, or shatter it?”

“I don't know.” Cullen admitted, and then sighed. “I didn't put much stock in the elvhen pantheon being real though, and now this, so…”

“Just because they exist does not make them gods, though I am sure they would still think so.” Solas explained, slipping into his teacher's tone. “ _Alhasha_ had the right of it before she knew. We were simply mages who didn't know when to stop. We were entrusted with the care and the safety of our people, and we lost sight of that duty.”

“How has Hawke made sense of all this?” Cullen asked, now morbidly curious.

“You want to know if she has managed to hang on to her faith in the Maker when she has literally walked among supposed elvhen gods in a city that no longer stands.” Solas remarked, much to Cullen's embarrassment. “She spouts curses about Andraste's ass, and prays to the Maker for my safety. What do you think?”

 


	39. Shock and Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are the reactions of the Chantry and the Dalish when they find out about this, and how does Hawke handle it all?

Chapter 39

 

Lavellan watched as Hawke stood frozen in shock. This had not been a part of the plan. To be fair, the plan kind of went belly up as soon as Solas opened his mouth, but he'd tried. Cassandra had been the hard sell, and they knew it. Cullen punching Vael had also not been in the plan, though she had secretly loved that; not like it was the first time someone had insulted her like that, but it was the first time anyone had ever done something like that as a result of hearing it.

“Well that went to shit.” Lavellan muttered, before looking to the others. “Any idea how I'm supposed to handle this now? He wasn't supposed to get himself arrested. That was nowhere near my original plan.”

“What did he **_say_**   to the two of you after I left?” Hawke asked, looking like she was struggling to remain calm. “Vael hasn't even left Skyhold yet. What is he thinking?”

“The timing is poor, I'll admit, but I can respect his desire to do this.” Lavellan stated. Hawke glared at her. “Like Blackwall, he wants to stop hiding. He can't do that without acknowledging publicly the things he has done. He mentioned that you had expressed a desire to help him out of hiding, that he would need to eventually.”

“And what happens when the Chantry hears you have _Fen'harel_ in your prison cells?” Hawke asked, her voice low enough to where the nobles trying to listen in couldn't hear her. “Will the other nations turn on you for this? If that happens, the Inquisition is done for.”

“Only if we don't play this right.” Lavellan replied, a possibility dawning on her. “Since he turned himself in to the Inquisition, I have free reign to judge him as I see fit. Even though they'll be spitting nails, they won't be able to touch him. As for the other nations, that could prove tricky. Either they'll be so angry they'll want to kill him, or they'll be so curious that they'll want to meet him……That actually has possibilities. I'll see you later, Hawke, I'll let you know what to expect once I talk to Leliana in private.”

* * *

 

The nobles were talking even more now. With Vael's claims of her being the chosen of Fen'harel, and Solas being arrested, some of them were already wondering if he was the man the king of Starkhaven spoke of. Hawke tried to clear this out of her mind. Solas may not always think his plans through, or realize the consequences until it was too late, but he wouldn't do something this rash and unplanned if he didn't honestly think it was a good idea. While she was busy thinking of what to do next, one of the elven messengers came up to her.

“ _Ara Tarlan_ , _ahn te na nuvenin iar ena?_ ” The messenger asked, his voice low, as he moved as if to show her a report.

**_My Lady, what do you want us to do/to act?_ **

“What?” Hawke asked, in surprise, but quickly recovered. “ _Banal. Amel'ish. Ama'ish'eth._ ”

**_Nothing. Guard him. Keep him safe_ **

“ _Ra shor ei tol, ara Tarlan_.” The messenger replied, before quickly making his exit, as he normally would.

**_It will be done, my Lady._ **

It shouldn't surprise her that Solas had agents within the Inquisition, but it did make her feel a little better about all of this. She would feel better if she had all the pieces to the puzzle, but she doubted even Solas had those. If he had, maybe he wouldn't have made such a rash decision so soon. That he did this without even thinking, or discussing it with her first, made her angry. An angry Hawke was a reckless Hawke, and a reckless Hawke did stupid things; She didn't want to lose her head like that.

Everyone else seemed to go back to their usual things, now that the Inquisitor no longer needed them. Meanwhile, Hawke felt like she had just been cast out to sea, adrift in her emotional upheaval. Maker only knew where Vael and his men were, or how fast the news was going to spread about Solas. Would Vael even bother staying for that, or just leave and try again for her later? The same messenger from before came back, and let her know that Cullen said it was safe for her to see Solas now.

“ _Ma serannas_.” She whispered to him as she passed. “ _Sathan, ama'inan sul Vael. Dirtha'em vis is esay sastrahnen._ ”

**_My thanks – Please, keep an eye on Vael. Tell me if he tries anything._ **

“ _Or'vir, ara Tarlan_.” He replied, in the same manner.

**_Of course, my Lady_ **

* * *

 

Her anger is palpable, mixing with frustration and worry, and she switches between then with such rapid speed that he can almost feel himself getting dizzy from trying to decipher it all. This isn't going to be a quick fix solution, and he knows that's what her mind is searching for. Solas knows he's likely to spend a good deal of time in here, and another wave of guilt hits him when he realizes she's going to spend that entire time worried out of her mind. It had been a split second decision, but one he thought would lead to the best possible outcome, and it wasn't like he could change his mind now.

He can't even begin to imagine what Lavellan plans to do about it. Her plans hadn't included this, he knows, but it had felt like a natural progression. It wasn't something he could just go back and change, even with the faulty time magic, or any spell he could craft in such a short time. In for a silver, in for a sovereign, or whatever the phrase was now. When she calmed down, he hoped that she would understand why he was doing this.

“Hawke, I won't ask you to calm down, but I will ask if you can try to stop your magic from projecting too much.” Cullen said, lightly, when Alhasha came down to the cells. “Skyhold may be ancient, but even it has its limits.”

“The Inquisitor was looking for you.” She stated, her anger still very much evident though it did look like she wasn't trying to take it out on him.

“There'll be a guard posted up at the top of the stairs, in case you need anything.” Cullen replied, as he made to leave. “I'll be back shortly. I meant what I said before, you know.”

“I understand, Commander.” She said, giving a quick nod in understanding. When Cullen was gone, Solas stood up and moved to the door of the cell, where she had moved to stand in front of.

“ _Alhasha_ ,-” Solas tried, but she raised up her hand to stop.

“I get it. I don't like it, but I get it, and I really wish I could have had at **_least_** a few minutes warning time.” Alhasha said, surprising him. He had thought she would try to convince him to back out of this. “I have been called _ara Tarlan_ more in the last few minutes than I have in…well… ** _ever_ _._** They're all wanting to know what I want them to do, because they weren't aware you were going to just **_turn yourself in_** , so now I'm having to convince them that this is what you wanted, even though they can see how worried I am.”

“This was not well thought out for me, I will admit, but I must stand by this decision, _Lath'in._ ” Solas replied, softly, seeing how put out she is. “I should have told you about our people. They have been instructed to come to you in the event that something happens to me.”

She smiles in spite of herself at the word 'our', something that he has noticed before, as if she takes heart that he automatically includes her in his plans when he would not have before. That she takes these reassurances as a comfort tells him that, in some part of her mind, the fear he will leave her behind may never truly go away. It makes him even more sure that this was the right step to take, because otherwise eventually he would have had to run, and he knows this. She is still not happy with him, but at least she understands. It makes this easier to bear.

“Think I figured that bit out on my own.” Alhasha remarked, the corner of her lips tugging up just a little.

“So, how much trouble am I in, _Lath'in_?” He asked, after a moment, stealing a small kiss through the bars. She had taken to leaning against the door, close enough he could have rested his forehead against her own if he so chose.

“So much, _Ara'nas_ , you have no idea.” She replied, before returning his gesture of a stolen kiss.

“Promise?” Solas asked, with a wicked grin.

“I could phase through the bars if you'd like to find out now.” She replied, in a sultry tone.

“Please don't.” Cullen all but pleaded, as he walked back down the stairs.

“What? You can't tell me you haven't thought of taking the Inquisitor down here.” Alhasha remarked, without missing a beat. “Or have you still not thought to take her on a trip around Thedas, and by that I mean the War Room table.”

“Maker's breath, Hawke.” Cullen sighed, exasperated. “Just because you're Lavellan's wingman doesn't mean I'm going to tell you those things.”

“Spoiled sport.” She teased, before stealing a quick kiss from Solas, but she left with no further prompting.

“What is it with you two? Can you just not help yourselves?” Cullen asked, flummoxed, taking his seat to guard Solas. “What is it?”

“Do you really want me to answer that, Commander?” Solas asked, with a slight grin.

* * *

 

Sebastian groaned as he woke up, his face throbbing in pain. What was it with people punching him in the face? This wasn't going at all how he thought. The Chantry refused to listen to him, and they were too busy scrambling around like chickens with their heads cut off to do anything productive. The neighboring Kingdoms thought him crazy. Now the Inquisition not only confirmed his theories, they had sided with the abomination known as Fen'harel.

He'd come back from Kirkwall, having called a retreat, nursing the wounds Hawke had given him. His advisers had questioned his attachment to the Champion of Kirkwall, his desire to see her Tried for treason when she wasn't a citizen of Starkhaven, and his conflicting desire to have her be his queen. She clearly wasn't interested, so what was the point? None of them knew he'd had his eye on her since she helped him avenge his family. He only found out later how young she had truly been then, but now?…Nothing was preventing him from claiming her as his own now; except that Hawke didn't want him, she was the true kindred soul to an ancient elvhen would be god, and had thwarted all of his tries for her.

That drunken night in Kirkwall should have been perfect. He'd waited so long for a chance with her, only it hadn't been perfect at all. She'd spurned his attentions, and when he'd tried to force the issue, she'd fought him off and bolted. The next day, she'd acted like nothing had happened, and so that's how he left it. For a while, it had been enough, but the longer it was left like that, the more obsessed he had become with her.

He knew he didn't love her, knew that's what she wanted for any marriage ties, but she was the only woman to ever deny him. The women at court gave into him too easily, and none of them looked like her. The servants were all too submissive, and none of them were wild like she was. The deal with the red templars was getting him nowhere, and he could not risk any more of his citizens to them. A bit of movement caught his eyes, and he stepped out of the healer's tents only to discover that it was morning.

Hawke was walking around with a much smaller mabari, carrying a tray of food. Why would she need something like that? Where was she taking it? Without another thought, he found himself walking towards her. The passerby's were wary of him, but since he had yet to do anything here, they were simply watchful.

“Hawke.” He called out, and watched as she tensed at the sound of his voice.

“What are you still doing here?” Hawke asked, turning to face him, her voice barely able to express the anger he could see in her eyes.

“It seems Commander Cullen throws an exemplary right hook.” Sebastian stated, an attempt at humour. “I only just woke up.”

“I see your memory is intact, then I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding the front gate.” Hawke stated, before making an attempt to leave. Sebastian made an attempt to catch her arm, but she pulled back from him before he could. “Do not touch me!”

“Can we not go back to how things used to be?” Sebastian asked, sadly, as he noticed the smaller mabari had taken to standing guard in front of her. People that were going about their day to day things paused for a moment when they heard her shout at him. “Can we not be friends again, Hawke?”

For a moment, it was almost like she had been frozen by magic, and then slowly anger spread across her features.

“Friends? No, we can not be **_friends_!”** Hawke shrieked. Her hair moved with a breeze that wasn't there, and he could swear he heard the stones groan under her power. “You stopped being my friend, if you ever were, the day you attacked me.”

“I didn't-” Sebastian began, but he was cut off.

“You tried to take me by force! That day when I walked you back to the Chantry, you were going to rape me!” Hawke continued. “If that was the only thing against you, if it had only been me you hurt, I could have eventually forgiven you; even for the poisoned sweet buns. You don't deserve it, and it wouldn't have been for **_you_ _,_** but I could have. That avenue is lost to you now.”

“Hawke, I-” He tried. Seeing how angry she truly was up close was rather terrifying and beautiful all at once.

“You went after the people I care for…You punished others for your own sins, and then blamed them for it.” Hawke continued. “You attacked an **_entire_ _city_** because they supported me. You **_not_ _only_** took the man I love **_hostage,_** you **_tortured_** him **_because_** he loves me, because I gave him what I will never give you. So, **_no,_** we can not be friends, Vael.”

“You're saying he has done no worse than that?” He shot back angrily. “That elf is-”

“Is what? An abomination?” She asked, cutting him off. “By that logic, so am I, and yet here you are. ”

“I could free you, save you from him.” He insisted. This was the only time he's had to talk to her alone, even out in the open like this; surely she would see reason without that elf present.

Instead, she burst out laughing. “Free me? Do you really think me so delusional as to be brainwashed into loving him? Is that what you tell yourself?”

“Clearly it's what's happened.” He insisted, in distaste. “Anything else is too degrading to believe. That you would actually love such a creature of your own free will, that you would give yourself to him instead of me, is too demeaning to the woman I thought you were. He must have some hold over you. No other explanation will do.”

“You should count yourself lucky you aren't dead.” She informed him. “The only reason why that man has not tormented you in the Fade to the brink of insanity is because I have my own plans for what to do about you.”

“Because it's not like he couldn't be tortured again.” Sebastian reminded her.

“Listen here, you little piece of qunari shit.” She growled, shocking him. She had never insulted him with so much hatred before, and it was a little jarring. “You come near anyone I care for again, and I'll kill you myself. Now I would suggest you take your men and go, before I decide to make good on that threat.”

“I will not give up on you, Hawke.” Sebastian vowed.

“I have already given up on you, Vael.” Hawke replied back, with such conviction that it troubled him. “There was a time when I thought you a good man. That time has long since passed. Do not attempt to speak to me again.”

* * *

 

When Vael was finally out of eyesight, Hawke looked down at the tray of food to find that she had disintegrated not only the tray but its contents as well. So, back to The Herald's Rest it was. New tray, new food, and a second attempt, and she finally made it to the cell they were keeping Solas in. How long he was going to have to stay in here, she didn't know. She didn't have the patience Solas did, but even she knew this was going to take time.

“ _Ara'nas_ , I've brought breakfast.” She said, happily, as she walked down the stairs to the cells. He was currently frowning at the normal prison food, and she couldn't help but laugh at the expression he wore. “Alright, I brought **_better_** breakfast.”

“It is much appreciated.” Solas said, still frowning at the odd bread he had been presented with. “I think they are having too much fun with this.”

She didn't have to ask who 'they' were, instead choosing to grin as she set everything up. A small table had been placed in front of his cell, either for this purpose, or a chess game between Solas and the Commander. Her food she sat on the table, before putting his on the middle bar of the cell door. Solas took the tray, set it on the cot, and the two of them shared the meal together. It is quiet, simple, but every so often his eyes search hers and she finds herself looking away.

“ _Lath'in,_ you look tired.” He said, trying to comfort her.

“Vael was still in Skyhold.” She replied, bitterness in her voice now. “I couldn't risk it.”

“I thought his men took him away.” Solas said, frowning further.

“They took him to the healers.” She corrected, before taking a drink of her coffee. Maker, she needed this after the night she'd had. “He confronted me on my way here, wondered if we could be friends. This is the **_second_** tray of food, by the way. I burned the first one somehow while I was talking to him.”

“ _Ir abelas, Lath'in_.” Solas said, softly, intertwining his fingers with her own. Her hand had been shaking.

“I may have threatened to kill him.” She added, with an impish grin, looking mischievously hopeful. “Is that considered a crime?”

“Quite possibly.” Solas replied, making sure to kiss each individual finger on the hand he held. “They may have to throw you in here with me.”

“Pity there's only the one bed.” Hawke remarked, eyeing the cot before smirking at him. “We may have to share.”

“Indeed.” He said, continuing her little game, planting light kisses along her pulse point. “I suppose I could be talked into it, if you promise not to bite.”

“Just this once.” Hawke agreed, leaning in to kiss him through the open space in the bars.

“Maker's breath, you two.” Cullen groaned, waking up from his very uncomfortable sleep in the guard's chair, surprising Hawke. “Let me sleep. That chess game took all night.”

Hawke looked to Solas, who nodded in confirmation as he said. “I could not sleep either, _Lath'in._ ”

* * *

 

“You want me to do what?!” Josephine asked, shocked that the Inquisitor would ask this of her.

“I want you to contact all the people you threatened Hawke and Solas with, and ask if they truly wish to meet them.” Lavellan repeated. “Be sure to throw in something about _Fen'harel_ and his chosen as well. They're orlesian. I'm sure it will peak their interests.”

The woman didn't stick around long enough for Josephine to make sure she was sure this was what she wanted. Sure, Solas had revealed his secret to them, but was she really suggesting that he subject himself as Fen'harel to the Orlesian nobility? Josephine wasn't sure this was a good idea, and had tried to express that, but Lavellan would hear none of it. She almost wanted to find Varric and place bets on who would survive this ordeal. Wondering such things would do her no good right now, Josephine thought as she shook her head before getting to work, and there were letters to write.

* * *

 

Lavellan sighed as she looked over the missives she had received. As expected, the Chantry had sent someone. They hadn't expected Vael's ravings to be correct, and now that they knew they were, many were calling for his head. They were angry that she wouldn't hand Fen'harel over to them, claimed she was supporting hedonistic religions and did not deserve the title of 'Herald of Andraste'; Funny how they conveniently think they have sanction over her life, like they had ever supported her before this. At least that had taken care of another problem she hadn't been sure how to handle, because now the Chantry had rescinded its call for Leliana and Cassandra, and just when they had started thinking of ways to make things better too.

What she wasn't prepared for was the reaction the Dalish would have. When the Conclave had been happening, only Clan Lavellan had thought to send anyone to it. When the Inquisition was formed, none of the other clans had thought to see if one of their own needed them. When the Inquisition grew, becoming more powerful than anything they had planned for, none of the clans had sent anyone to her. Only now, when she had sent word that Fen'harel was at Skyhold, did anyone from the other clans bother to send anyone.

Keeper Deshanna had sent word long ago that she had had to pick another first, as it appeared that Dhaevira had found her own way in the world. It had felt like the woman was proud of her for having made her own way, and Lavellan had felt a sense of comfort in that. Now, Keepers from every clan sat before her in the War Room. It almost reminded her of the Arlathvhen, the gathering of the Keepers. Though she had only been to a couple of them as First of her Clan, this meeting looked a lot more grim than anything she remembered.

“I would like to thank you all for coming.” Lavellan started, seeing as how no one else was willing to start talking. “I am glad that the Keepers to so many clans could come and meet with me.”

“It is good to see you again, _Dhaevira._ It has been too long.” Keeper Deshanna replied, with warmth and kindness. “I have missed you.”

“As I you.” Lavellan agreed.

“Pleasantries aside, there is much to discuss.” An older man, the Keeper of Ralaferin, stated sternly. “Your missive stated that you have _Fen'harel_ in your custody, and that there is proof he is who he claims to be. How did you capture him? How is such a thing even possible?”

“I never said I captured him.” Lavellan corrected, a bit annoyed he was talking to her like she was a petulant child.

“Then how did he come to be in your custody?” the Keeper of Ralaferin demanded. It was now very evident to her that he didn't believe this at all.

“He turned himself in.” Lavellan revealed, smirking at the look of disdain the man now semed to exude.

“He…just turned himself in?” A young man, a Keeper she did not recognize, asked. Their voice was doubtful. “Why?”

“Love.” Lavellan replied, not surprised when there was shock and outrage throughout the room.

“ _Dhaevira_ , you can not mean to tell me you believe yourself-” Keeper Deshanna admonished, but was cut off.

“Not with **_me_.”** Lavellan corrected, with a snicker. “By the Creators, I don't think I could handle dealing with that man's moods. I think he's quite possibly the broodiest elf I know. No, I'm talking about _Sulahn'ean, esem or Fen'harel_. The chosen of _Fen'harel._ ”

“ _Tel min sal, Dhaevira_. I thought you outgrew such childish stories.” Keeper Deshanna chastized lightly.

**_Not this again_ **

“This painting has been dated to the time of _Arlathan._ ” She said, moving to pull the cloth away and reveal the painting in question. “I suspect **_that_** is proof enough for you?”

Even she had to admit that the painting was beautiful, but she didn't know if they could see what she could. She could see the love he held for Sulahn'ean. Though the painting did not depict ancient arlathan, the atmosphere looked very elvhen. The clothing they wore looked very regal, even more so than they had in Halam'shiral. One of the Keepers stood up, moving over to the painting in question to study it further, frowning as he did so.

“This man…I've met him…” He said, not looking away from the painting. “He tried to tell me stories of _Elvhenan_ , but when he told me about the _vallas'lin_ , I turned him away…If what he told me was true, then we have been making ourselves slaves for generations, and I couldn't accept that…You're telling me this man _is_ _Fen'harel_ , and I…I spurned him?”

“He's offered a way to free us, though that isn't why you're all here.” Lavellan stated, bringing their attention back to her. “You came to see if my words were true. So, if you were me, how would you judge him?”

“Judge _Fen'harel_? Would we even survive such an ordeal?” the Keeper of Sabrae asked, warily.

“Perhaps we should hear more of what you know, _Dhaevira_ , before we make such a choice.” Keeper Deshanna offered, wisely.

Lavellan sighed, knowing this was going to be a long conversation. A part of her wished Varric was here for this part. He was always best at telling stories, and this explanation seemed more like a story than anything else. There was so much she had to explain, so she started with the only thing she could; her dreams of Hawke. The Keepers of the Clans listened as she told a story that had been thousands of years in the making, each with varying degrees of interest.

They listened as she told of the back and forth she witnessed from Hawke and Solas, the mark on the girl's ankle, the many times he had gone to her in his sleep. She included stories where Hawke or Solas messed up, because they needed to realize that Fen'harel was not infallible, because neither he nor Sulahn'ean were gods. It was hard to do though, because when Hawke and Solas fought side by side, it was always a sight to see. The things they did to save each other were the stuff legends were made out of.

She included everything she could, right up to the point where Solas explained just how the Breach was his fault and why he had acted in the first place. He'd asked to be sentenced, but how could she make such a choice alone? That's one of the reasons why she'd contacted the clans. The consequences of his actions had affected too many people for her to make that choice without them. It's why she'd had Josephine contact the nobles of Orlais.

Even the King of Fereldan had asked to meet with them because of this. After the events of Redcliffe, he'd kept in regular contact with them, but this was the first time he had asked to meet with them. Her mind wandered as the Keepers talked about what should be done. She couldn't do what she had done for Blackwall, not so soon after him, but she didn't have it in her to hate him either. What punishment could possibly fit what he'd done, even given the circumstances surrounding it?

* * *

 

“Hey, _Lavallan_ , Sera and I need you for prank business, and you've been stuck in here all day-” Hawke stopped short when she saw the council of Keepers. “Oh, shit.”

“Serah Hawke.” One of the Keepers remarked. “What do you have to say about this?” It was only then that Hawke saw what the young man was pointing at, the painting of her and Solas.

“You know Hawke?” Lavellan asked, in mild surprise.

“She is responsible for the death of Keeper _Merithari._ ” He responded.

“Your previous Keeper sacrificed herself for the First of your Clan, to save her from a Demon trapped in an _el'u'vi'an._ ” Hawke corrected, now remembering where she knew him from. “She loved _Merrill_ as if she were her own daughter, and your anger does you no service here.”

“If _Asha'bellanar_ had never sent you to us, we could have kept _Merrill_ from the corrupted _el'u'vi'an._ ” The young man insisted, angrily.

“Possibly.” Hawke allowed, crossing her arms in front of her. “However, it's just as likely that she would have continued, and then all of clan _Sabrae_   would be dead.”

“Explain yourself.” The man insisted, pointing back to the painting again. “How are you the chosen of _Fen'harel_? We thought this was a myth, a lie told by the agents of _Fen'harel_ to sew descension in the Dalish.”

“Exactly how am I supposed to **_explain_** myself? What would you have me say?” Hawke asked, beyond angry now. “The first time I saw him, I touched his face and knew. Not everything, but enough. A rift sent me to ancient _Arlathan_ , and I learned the rest. What do you want me to tell you? That _Falon'din_ was a spoiled ass of a child who liked to kill slaves for sport? That _Elgar'nan_ was a pretentious son of a bitch that helped murder his wife? That because he lost his heart sister, _Fen'harel_ had not only planned rebellion to free the people, but had buried his emotions so deep within himself that he was simply going through the motions of living? That **_that_** was the reason why he was able to blend in with them so well, because he no longer gave a damn about his own life? The others weren't much better than _Elgar'nan_ , enjoying the embarrassment and suffering of their servants. I was a novelty to them, an amusement granted only a modicum of safety, even as it put me in danger, because _Fen'harel_ found me intriguing.”

“How did he lock away the other gods?” One of the Keepers asked.

“First, you should know by now that they aren't actual gods. They're just mages that forgot they were to serve their people, not the other way around.” Hawke corrected, not giving a damn. The Keeper went to correct her, but she cut him off. “There was a dance, a celebration. The Tevinter Imperium invaded _Arlathan_ before warnings could be sounded. Your 'gods' hid themselves away already, and _Fen'harel_ used the opportunity to seal them where they'd hidden. He threw me into _uth'then'era_ , and erected the Veil. Anything else?”

“Lies!” The Keeper of Sabrae shouted. “He betrayed us all!”

“Yeah, I really don't care what you believe.” Hawke quipped, shutting him up. “I know that I had to watch his face as he realized what he'd have to do to keep me safe, that he would have to destroy his people to have any chance at saving them, that he would have to forget me in order to have any chance at seeing me again. You will **_never_** know the anguish that was in his eyes when he realized he couldn't let me defend _Arlathan,_ not when it would risk everything I'd told him would happen. So go on, and judge him like you plan to, after everything he has done for you, after you still expect him to do everything for you.”

* * *

 

Keeper Deshanna found herself wandering the halls of Skyhold alone. The other Keepers had left not long ago, after giving their advice to Dhaevira. She found that she could not make herself leave yet, wanting to see this Inquisition her former First was now in charge of. She was also very curious about this Hawke person that was caught up with Fen'harel. The young woman's reaction had been very telling, and she wanted to learn more of her.

As she calmly made her way around Skyhold, she noticed Hawke walking away from the tavern with a tray of food enough for two people. She decided to follow at a distance, curious about the young woman. Maybe she would have a chance to speak with her. The way she spoke of Arlathan, as if she had truly been there…that a half elf would admonish elders as if they were children, made her wonder. After nodding to the guard, she continued to follow Hawke.

She hadn't said this to the others, but Deshanna had also been contacted by Fen'harel in the Fade. She had pushed him away, believing that she was doing what was best for her people. With Dhaevira's stories, and Hawke's accounts, there was new information. Now, Deshanna wasn't so sure she had done the right thing by turning the Dread Wolf away. If they had gotten his motives for locking the others away wrong, what else had they gotten wrong?

The man who Hawke greets is the one Deshanna saw in the Fade, and then she knew. Dhaevira had been right, this was Fen'harel, and if she was right about that then it could stand to reason that she was right about everything else. The way his eyes looked when he saw Hawke, Deshanna had no words for it. They ate together, laughed over a chess game, caresses and soft touches; The mabari pup playing with them was a bit of a stumping thought for her, but it was strangely heartwarming to see. What she had not expected was for the man to look over in her direction as if he knew she was there.

He looked back to Hawke with a playful smile, and said. “ _Lath'in,_ you did not tell me you brought a guest.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're following my Hawke's Legacy, it will have a new chapter posted next week!


	40. Sentence of Solas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan has a hard choice to make, what to do about Solas. How can one sentence a would be god?

Chapter 40

 

“Keeper _Deshanna_?! What are you doing here?” Hawke asked, angrily, rising to stand when she saw her.

“ _Ir abelas_ , Hawke.” Deshanna said, sheepishly, raising her hands in peace. “Forgive me my curiosity. I had to see for myself if he was as I remembered him.”

“As you remembered him?……He visited you in the Fade, and you didn't speak up when the other Keepers were still here? When it **_mattered_?”** Hawke asked, not giving an inch, before sighing, “ _Ir tas abelas_ , Keeper _Deshanna_ , these last few days have been…trying…for me.”

**_I'm also sorry_ **

“ _Dhaevira_ told me some of it after you left earlier.” Deshanna replied, before taking a step closer. “I would meet with you both, if you would let me.”

“ _Savhalla, Amelan Deshanna._ ” The man she recognized as Fen'harel greeted.

**_Greetings, Keeper Deshanna_ **

“I have a feeling this is going to be a very long conversation.” Hawke said, with a sigh. “There's not nearly enough alcohol for this. I'll be right back.”

When she was gone, Fen'harel turned to face Deshanna, and said. “When I came to you before, I did not have all of my memories, so I apologize for my brash actions.”

“Your memories of her? She'd said you'd had to lock them away.” Deshanna remarked, thinking back to the meeting earlier that day.

“Yes.” He said, solemnly. “It is not a moment I like to think about.”

“ _Ir abelas, Fen'harel._ ” Deshanna began.

“ _Solas._ My name before.” He explained. She nodded in understanding. “Please, have a seat. Like _Alhasha_ said, this is going to be a very long conversation. She will not mind us starting it without her, considering she knows most of it by heart now.”

“As you say, _Solas_.” Deshanna replied, unable to stop a tiny smile at that.

* * *

 

When Hawke got back with a tray of alcohol and a few glasses, she was surprised to see the two laughing. She'd thought this was going to be a solemn conversation, but it seems they'd gotten through that part while she was gone. It was a relief, as she had had enough solemnness for the last few days, which was why she'd decided to join Sera in a bit of prank business earlier. She'd never fully relaxed, even with Vael gone, because Solas was still insisting on being in the cell as he waited for Lavellan to sentence him. Still, she'd take what peace she could, and this seemed like a good time for it; drinks with friends, old or newly made, would do her good.

* * *

 

There was definitely more people in the hall today. It was no secret who she would be judging today, and it seemed **_everyone_** wanted to be there. These last few days had been the most stressful ones, and things were strained with everyone. Keeper Deshanna had stayed behind, wanting a few days with her former First, but they hadn't really been able to spend much time together where she'd had to consider her next move in this. She'd asked for advice from everyone, afraid that her actions before with Blackwall/Rainier had made her seem too merciful, wondering what she could possibly give Solas as a sentence.

There was also the matter of Hawke. Lavellan knew that whatever happened to Solas would to some extent happen to Hawke as well, so physical pain was definitely out. She'd seen it with the red lyrium poisoning Solas had endured through Hawke, and the torture Hawke had endured through Solas. She wasn't angry enough to kill him, and even were she to be, she didn't know what that would do to Hawke. The woman herself had kept her distance from her, claiming she didn't want to try and influence Lavellan's decision, but Lavellan could see how hard this was on her even so.

Hawke got more stressed out by the day, torn between trying to honour Solas' request and wanting to break him out herself; and no amount of attempts by Sera, Cole or Varric could fix that. It wasn't like Skyhold could contain either of them if they chose not to stay, another thing that Lavellan had to consider. She looked out at those who gathered here, Chantry officials, several Dalish, Nobles from Orlais, and she was fairly certain she'd seen the King of Fereldan floating around somewhere earlier. When Cullen and another guard brought forth Solas, the crowd quietened enough for proceedings to begin.

“I must present Solas, formerly known as Fen'harel, most definitely words I never thought I would say.” Josephine announced, still a bit flummoxed by it all. “His crimes are……extensive, to say the least. The most notorious of these include the distruction of the empire of Elvhenan, and indirectly causing the explosion at the Conclave which killed Divine Justinia and everyone in attendance…except for you, of course. He has turned himself in to the Inquisition, and his judgement is now in your hands, Inquisitor.”

“Words I never thought I'd **_hear_ ,** to be honest.” Lavellan admitted, with a sigh. “This has not been an easy decision to make, the scope of it is simply too big for one person alone to judge. I have taken advice and council from Chantry officials, villagers all over, and Dalish Keepers alike, trying to decide how to handle this, and even after all of that I was no closer to a decision than when I first started. It was a decision I had to make alone. Is there anything you would like to say, Solas, before I issue your sentence?” She wondered how he would choose to play this, what choice he would force her to make.

“No, Inquisitor.” Solas replied, remaining calm but sullen. Lavellan sighed. The hard way then.

“Explain to me the circumstances which brought you to the decision to cut the People from the Fade, and lock away the would be _elvhen_ gods, the decision that destroyed _Elvhenan_.” She ordered, surprising Solas slightly with how cold her voice sounded.

“It started with a war.” Solas explained, retaining his teaching like demeanor. “The best, most skilled, of us were known as _Evanuris._ We became advisers, generals, kings, and eventually gods. We thought ourselves above the others, enslaved them, used them for our wants and whims, gifting them to each other as we liked. It was…depraved indifference. I had begun to see things as they truly were, the plight of the people against the god-kings that were supposed to protect them, and had begun freeing those I could. The murder of _Mythal_ set the course for my decision to create the Veil, and lock away the other _Evanuris._ ”

“You were warned that your choices would have the consequences they did, and yet you still made the same choice when you could have prevented it.” Lavellan asked, keeping her voice stern. She needed Solas to express emotion, damn it, or else this would never work. **_“_ _Why_ _?”_**

“Because every other choice was worse.” He replied, simply. “I couldn't risk altering the timeline as it was explained to me, because…” He faltered here, having difficulty keeping his composure.

“Because?…” Lavellan urged. Come on, Solas, react!

“What do you want me to **_say_ ,** Inquisitor?” Solas asked, impatiently shaking his head. “It was the only way to save my people,…the only way to save _**her**_ …I couldn't **_risk_** things being worse than what she told me, and if I had made the choice not to erect the Veil, they could have been…I couldn't risk it…I couldn't risk her…”

“So…you destroyed _Elvhenan_ …for a **_woman_?”** Lavellan asked, arching an eyebrow at him. His head shot up, knowing he'd told her this story, as he glared at her.

“…Yes.” Solas replied, shaking in his anger. It wouldn't take much more now.

“How is it that this woman knew what would happen to The People should you erect the Veil?” She asked, her voice still stern.

“At the time, I created a spell to find my _nas'falon,_ the mate of my soul, and discovered that she had been pulled from this time to my own.” Solas stated, trying to keep his voice even, his breathing coming in much faster now. “Once she told me what would happen, I knew I couldn't risk her timeline…I _**couldn't**_ …”

 **“ _Why?_ ”** Lavellan demanded.

“Because I loved her already. Because I knew that I would come to love her in this time.” Solas said, looking defeated now. “I risked the fate of my people, **_everything._** I made myself forget her words, forget **_her_ ,** and trapped the others behind the Veil anyway, because the others would have stopped at nothing even with her gone. Had I changed my choice and let her fight for the city of _Arlathan_ as it was being taken over _,_ she may never have been born, and the fate of the people could be worse than it is now.”

“And the Conclave? I know that your people indirectly lead the Venatori to the orb with your magic, that they gave it to Corypheus, that he used it hoping to gain entrance into the Fade physical, and that his actions resulted in the explosion at the Conclave.” Lavellan stated. She felt a bit guilty about making him spill his guts in front of everyone, but it was what was needed to sway their opinions. “What ** _I_** want to know is why you thought it wise to give him such an object when you **_knew_** what it would do.”

“I didn't.” Solas admitted, with a slight shaking of his head. “It wasn't supposed to cause that explosion. It was supposed to kill Corypheus, yes; but because it did not, the backlash of power killed everyone else instead.”

“Had it worked, what would have happened?” Lavellan asked. Damn it, she was starting to feel really guilty now. She hadn't even grilled Blackwall this hard, and it appeared Solas was not handling it well at all.

“The world would have been thrown into chaos as things righted themselves. _Elvhenan_ would have been restored, and this world would have most likely been destroyed, and quite possibly the humans with it.” Solas replied, his voice uneasy. That caught people's attentions.

“Did you know that you could have easily killed the woman you love had it worked?!” Lavellan asked, demanding, angrily, knowing that is what people expected after news like that. “Considering Hawke's not entirely an elf, it could have **_killed_** her, ripping open the Veil in such a manner. Were you aware of that?”

“No. I'd made myself forget her, to keep her safe.” Solas stated, saddened once more, looking lost in his own thoughts. “So, in my efforts to restore my people, I almost lost everything all over again, and I would have never known.”

“And you think you deserve to **_die_** for this?” Lavellan asked, looking quickly about the room to see many faces were alarmed at the thought; though some were not.

“I am already the cause of so much death, Inquisitor.” Solas said, saddened still. So lost in his own thoughts, he didn't see what she was doing. She felt **_sooooo_** guilty for this. “It would be no less than what I deserve for the crimes I have committed against my people, against this world,…against her.”

“Killing you would be too easy, and you have already proven your willingness to correct your errors. These are things that must be taken into account.” Lavellan stated, leaning back into the throne, as she crossed her arms in front of her. “You have saved the lives of **_many_** during your time here. You have sought to right those you had wronged, human or not. You stayed to correct your mistake, when you could have easily left with us none the wiser. You physically fought with the King of Starkhaven when he tried to capture Hawke in _Halam'shiral_ ; were captured yourself later for your troubles, **_beaten_ , _tortured_ ,** and nearly **_killed_** trying to keep him from her. Hawke told me how bad your injuries were when she found you, that you wouldn't have made it off that battlefield in Kirkwall if she hadn't been able to heal you as she did. Do you deny these things?”

“No, I do not.” Solas replied, in confusion, looking up at her. “But I do not see how that helps you.”

“It doesn't.” Lavellan revealed. “It helps you.”

“I…I don't understand.” Solas said, in disbelief, not looking away now.

“Solas, you can't exactly correct your mistakes if you're dead.” Lavellan pointed out, then looked out to those within the hall, making sure to project an air of authority. “Solas, for your crimes against the world, I sentence you to repairations.”

“……Repairations?” Solas asked, not understanding.

“Oh, yes. **_Repairations_ _._ ”** Lavellan said, with a mischievously evil grin, something that made Solas look wary. “You **_will_** continue to fix the world you have destroyed. You will be sent out to various locations, to **_wherever_** Ambassador Montillyet decides to send you, meet with **_whoever_** she sends you to, where I am sure you will tell the various stories of _Fen'harel_ and _Sulahn'ean_ far too often for your liking. You will show this world what it has forgotten, and when Corypheus is finally dead, we will talk of an alliance between you two and the Inquisition.” She raised her hand up, as many had started to talk so loud no one would be able to hear her if she continued, and they quietened down. “Prove to me that her world means as much to you as your own, and we will talk.”

* * *

 

“Did she really just…” Dorian asked, watching the scene in something close to shock. Solas looks like he can barely believe what's happened.

“Charge him to do everything he was going to do anyway because he loves Flint?” Varric asked, with a chuckle. “Looks like it.”

“Oh no, she did worse than that.” Sera said, snickering. “She's going to make Sol-arse dance a merry jig for all the nobles too. You heard that story time shite, yeah?”

“Think he realizes that's what he's agreed to?” Dorian asked, mildly surprised.

“She practically made him rip his own heart out for everyone to see.” Iron Bull noted. “I doubt he cares about his own name at the moment.”

“Where **_is_** Flint anyway?” Varric asked, seeing that Cullen had taken off the irons on Solas. The elf was bound to start looking for her soon. “Shouldn't she be here?”

* * *

 

“So, do you think I'm safe from proper boot placement?” Cullen asked, as Solas rubbed his wrists to get the uncomfortable feeling the irons gave him.

“I believe you've made a good case for your safety.” Solas remarked, with a sly grin, trying to hide how nervous he still felt. It did him little good, considering how badly he was shaking. “Remind me later never to get on _Lavellan's_ bad side. I have watched these meetings before, and it is fascinating watching her mind work, but it's a bit different actually standing here in judgement like this. That was……I don't believe my heart will return to my chest for several days.”

“If then.” Blackwall said, Solas narrowly avoiding jumping out of his own skin as he had not been paying attention enough to have heard him coming. “Thought you could use the support from someone who's stood here. You alright, Solas?”

“Yes, I…I believe so, Blackwall.” Solas said, a bit distracted as he looked for Alhasha. “Have you seen _Alhasha_?”

“Oh, right. About that…” Blackwall grins a bit sheepishly at this. “Somewhere during the undressing you just endured, Lavellan mentioned Hawke, and you, and it didn't take long before the nobles put two and two together.”

“Blackwall, where **_is_** she?” Solas asked, now more urgently, feeling very clostrophobic at the moment.

“Over by the dwarf that's been trying to translate those stone tapestries we keep finding all over the place.” Blackwall replied, pointing the way.

Solas began making his way to her, feeling her distress, politely declining several nobles along the way. He passed Mother Gizelle, who politely asked for time to speak with him. After agreeing to speak at a later date, he made his way through the crowd to find Alhasha. Whether Lavellan knew this or not, she had just sentenced Alhasha as well. Wolves did not do well in confined spaces, something he knew all too well, and Alhasha was being crowded upon now.

Without thinking, he moved through the crowd to get to her. Nervous energy fuels him, and before he knows it, he is through the small crowd that had gathered around her. His arms are around her in an instant, pulling her to him. Though they have shared many such moments while he was in the cell, it is nice to share them as they are again. At the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care one fig for the people around them.

“I'm thinking…I should stick to planning,…instead of…quick improve decisions.” Solas said, as they exchanged small kisses.

“I agree.” Alhasha replied, showing no signs of being embarrassed about being watched as they probably still were. “That's my job…How else am I supposed to worry you?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something, _Sulahn'ean._ ” Solas teased.

* * *

 

“Maker's breath, they really **_can't_** help themselves.” Cullen groaned, half-heartedly. Dhaevira chuckled at him, though she tried to hide it. “You don't understand. I had to endure days, **_weeks_ ,** of that; Like the cells were their own personal make out den or something. I'm almost convinced they would have started having sex in there if I'd just turned a blind eye to the sounds.”

At that, Dhaevira couldn't contain her laughter any longer. “I already feel guilty, Commander.” She says, through her laughter. “I just had to eviscerate Solas in front of everybody and their mother. It worked though. They're all curious about him now.”

“Them, you mean. You know you sentenced Hawke as well, right?” Cullen asked, gently.

“If you'd like, think of it as revenge for the threat of proper boot placement.” She snickered, as she pretended to console him, before kissing his cheek.

“So, how long before you think this blows up in our faces?” Cullen asked, blushing at that, before seeing that several of the Chantry officials were looking at both Dhaevira and the kissing pair with disdain and anger.

“I would say not long at all.” Mother Giselle remarked, as she stopped in front of them, a tired smile as she looked back on Hawke and Solas before turning back to Dhaevira. “Though you impressed upon the crowd that the elvhen pantheon was not what they thought it was, many in the Chantry will still view this as herasy. Although, considering they were only just now beginning to demand things from you when it became convenient for them to do so, I doubt you will mind much. Let us hope they do not seek to harm either of them. I doubt either Hawke or Solas would stand by and allow it.”

“That's probably the most anti Chantry thing I've ever heard you say, Mother Giselle.” Dhaevira teased, making the woman smile more openly.

“It has been some time since I have been popular with my fellow Chantry leaders.” Mother Giselle admitted, with a small smile. “I have no doubt they will take my opinion with a grain of salt, and forget it just as quickly.”

* * *

 

Solas had answered several questions already, and it didn't look like the curious nobles of Orlais were going to stop any time soon. Inwardly he sighed, wondering how they were going to get out of this mess. He could not act as he had before, simply dismissing them with a wave of his hand and a force push for emphasis…could he? No, Alhasha would not like that, but one look at her tells him she might consider the idea at the moment. Before he can even ask though, another noble moves to stand in front of them.

“Vultures, the lot of you. Go bother someone else for a while, will you?” The man stated, shewing the other nobles away, before turning to the two of them. “Alright, Hawke, now is as good a time to make an escape as any.”

“ _Ir abelas_ , but who are you?” Solas asked, eyeing the tall blonde human man with suspicion.

“Oh, right. Yeah, sorry. Kind of used to just barreling through, anymore. Strange thing is, they let me do it, and then pass it off that I'm one of that ill mannered Fereldan lot.” The man explained, sheepishly. “I am, but still, they could try for a better excuse or something. It's actually quite nice that you don't know who I am. I think I'll enjoy it a bit, if you don't mind.”

“Not swooping anymore?” Alhasha asked, with a knowing smirk. It eases Solas' mind a little, knowing that she knew who this was.

“No, no. Swooping is bad.” The man replied, with an easy smile. “It's good to see you, Hawke. Last time I saw you, Meredith hadn't went loony with red lyrium just yet. I'm sure you've had tons of adventuring since then, but I haven't had a chance to write, and those scribes like to make fun of me by putting every word I say down; even ones I don't want written!”

“It's good to see you too, Alistair.” Alhasha greeted, before looking between the two of them. “I suggest we get going before they regroup. Vultures do that, you know.”

“Oh, I know!” Alistair exclaimed, as he thought of something. “I'm staying over at that Herald's Rest place for a bit. Snuck away from the uncle and everything! We can all pop over there for a bite, and we can swap adventures there.”

“You have to tell me how you did **_that_ _._ ”** Alhasha said, with a laugh. “Your uncle never leaves your side, like ever.”

“I paid one of those red jenny's to distract him with lizards.” Alistair whispered, sending Alhasha into a laughing fit. “Don't tell him.”

“King Alistair.” Solas realized, as something the dwarf told him comes to the front of his mind, turning to Alhasha. “You're friends with the King of Fereldan? Why did you not go there when things spiraled out of control?”

“I didn't want to put anybody in danger.” She said softly, something Solas understood immediately. “Fereldan wasn't doing much better than Orlais at the time. I couldn't bring that kind of trouble down on my home country and its people.”

“Ah, see, there goes that anonymity I was so hoping to enjoy for a while.” Alistair sighed, as they made their way towards the Herald's Rest. “Nice while it lasted, I suppose.”

Alhasha snickered, as she lightly punched him. “Come on. I skipped breakfast this morning, because I was too nervous to eat.”

“I **_did_** tell you to eat something, _Lath'in._ ” Solas teased, trying not to allow his nerves and his ever growing jealousy at this foolish shem'len show through.

Alhasha looks back at him every once in a while with that grin of hers, and he's not sure if he's in 'trouble' or if she can sense his growing unease about Alistair. The two men don't talk to each other, which is just fine with Solas. The minute they get to the Herald's Rest, they go to the room they talked with Fenris in. Alistair doesn't talk while the two go through the motions of making the room sound proof. He doesn't ask any questions till they're done.

“How many times have you two had to do this?” He asked, wiggling his hands about like they had been.

“I'm surprised you have to ask, Alistair.” Alhasha replied, as she sat down. “I'm friends with a story telling dwarf, have several nations that hate me, and am paranoid as a general rule.”

“Considering what that _durgen'len_ has walked in on, we should probably start adding more painful security measures.” Solas grumbled. It didn't take long for Alistair to get the idea, blushing bright red, and Solas chuckled. “You blush worse than the Commander.”

“Hey, you did that on purpose!” Alistair exclaimed in surprise.

“That's generally how it's done.” Solas remarked, with a telling smirk. Alhasha snickers even as she smacks him.

“He's going to catch on fire at this rate, _Ara'nas._ ” Alhasha admonished lightly. “Have mercy on the poor man.”

“Only because you asked, _Lath'in_.” Solas replied, grinning slightly.

“Alright, Alistair, what's been eating at you?” Alhasha asked, looking to the man now.

“Why do you think something's been-?” Alistair stopped when he saw her arching her eyebrow at him, and sighed. “That Chantry brother friend of yours, the one with Andraste's face on his privates. Why does he have that anyway? Andraste's face on his privates, and you're just supposed to what…not stare, or pretend you haven't thought of asking him if his bits are blessed?”

“You ramble worse than she does.” Solas noted, with some amusement.

“Well, there's a lot of thoughts buzzing about in here.” Alistair reasoned, waving at his head. “Anyway, he tried to get me to talk sense into you forever ago, but I said no. Apparently, my reasoning that you have way more sense than I do, was not good enough. I thought it was perfectly sound reasoning myself. Still can't believe Surana put me up to this. Be King, she said. It'll be fun, she said. Terrible plan really. I shouldn't be in charge of anything. She's laughing at me somewhere, I just know it. I still have those terrible nightmares where I wake up with no pants! I told her that that would happen. Anyway,…It wasn't until I got a letter from Ambassador Montilyet that I finally figured out what he was yammering on about, and that he wasn't **_completely_** insane, just **_mostly_** insane. So I figured I should pop on over, and see what all the fuss is about.”

“So you want to know what they want to know.” Solas realized, gesturing back to the main hall.

“Well, yeah, but I'm also hungry, and I wasn't sure either of you had had breakfast yet, what with all the sentencing and everything. So, food.” Alistair admitted, then realized they hadn't gotten any food yet. “What's good here anyway?”

“I'll go grab us some stuff. I'm so hungry I think I could eat a Great Bear!” Alhasha exclaimed, kissing Solas on the cheek before she left.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” Alistair asked, crossing his arms in front of himself.

“More so than I have any right to expect, I would wager. She is…so much more than I could have ever anticipated.” Solas admitted, still looking to the door she'd left. “Why are you really here?”

“Why are you really with her?” Alistair asked, outright.

“How many more?” Solas asked, talking to himself, a small smile slowly spreading across his face.

“I'm sorry?” Alistair asked, not understanding.

“You are not the first to ask after my intentions in regards to _Alhasha,_ certainly not the first Vael has sent with just enough information to make you worried about your friend.” Solas informed him, before looking over at him as if he were measuring his prey. “You are also not the smartest. Only a fool would wait until he was all alone with the Dread Wolf before asking after his intentions in a room where no one can hear you **_scream_.”**

* * *

 

Just a few moments before…

 

Alistair had heard the talk just like everyone else, and so when word was sent out that the Inquisition did in fact have Fen'harel in their custody, he sent word that he would be in attendance for the sentencing. He hadn't believed the King of Starkhaven when he'd tried to petition his help in securing Hawke's safety. He was fairly certain that woman would kick his ass for attempting to protect her, considering she had an independent streak a mile wide and was as dangerous as Surana, and if that mysterious Solas he was hearing so much about was truly Fen'harel then Alistair was pretty sure she was already about as protected as one could ever get. Besides, what did that foolish man hope **_he_** could do? You help stop a blight, and suddenly people think you can do anything.

The Inquisitor was **_terrifying_ ,** and gorgeous, but most **_definitely_** terrifying. Fen'harel or not, Alistair wouldn't trade places with him right now for anything, even if it could get him Hawke in the end, as he watched the bald elf get interrogated and emotionally exposed for all to see. Just watching that had been painful, so when he saw his chance to break the two out of their prison circle of nobles, he took it. He just wished he hadn't had to watch the elf's emotional reunion with Hawke first. It was difficult not to be drawn in by the light that she was. Now, though, he had just been left alone in a room with this elven man, and decided that now was as good a time as any to see after his intentions.

“How many more?” The elven man asked, talking to himself, a small smile slowly spreading across his face.

“I'm sorry?” Alistair asked, not understanding. Clearly he was missing something important here.

“You are not the first to ask after my intentions in regards to _Alhasha,_ certainly not the first Vael has sent with just enough information to make you worried about your friend.” The elven man informed him, before looking over at him as if he were measuring his prey. “You are also not the smartest. Only a fool would wait until he was all alone with the Dread Wolf before asking after his intentions in a room where no one can hear you **_scream_.”**

Suddenly, Alistair realized just how right that man was. It was like the entire make up of the room shifted until all he could see where the molten silver orbs that made up his eyes, and the ethereal green wolf that towered over everything as the elven man stood; walking towards him with a deliberately slow pace. Eyes wide, Alistair wastes no time backing up to the other side of the room. Hero of the Blight or not, there was no way he could take on the terrifying sight that was before him. Seeing that Alistair had been sufficiently taught a lesson in timing, the bald elven man returned to his original seat as everything faded out of sight; just in time for Hawke to walk in.

* * *

 

“Do I even want to know?” Hawke asked, when she walked back into the room.

Alistair was all the way on the other side of the room, huddled in the floor in a corner, making sure to keep Solas in his line of sight. Solas, for all his part, was looking the picture of perfectly relaxed innocence. His eyes fell on her, and suddenly his grin turned into something more mischievous. That was all it took before she began laughing, before walking into the room. Biscuit following her into the room at the last moment, headed straight for Solas.

“Come on, Alistair, you're a King, not a child. Get out of the corner.” Hawke teased. Alistair huffed, looking marginally embarrassed, but made his way back to the table. “I trust that the two of you are done threatening each other now?”

“We did not threaten each other at all, _Lath'in_. Such things were not needed.” Solas playfully objected, pulling her into his arms. She merely looked at him, waiting for him to admit to whatever he did. “I simply pointed out his folly of waiting till he was alone to ask the Dread Wolf of his intentions……in a room where he knew no one could hear him scream.”

“Solas!” She said, trying to talk through her laughter. “That was awful!”

**_~Treats thinks Goof will try and take Rubs away. Rubs stay?~_ **

“Wait, you think that I-?” Hawke began to ask in surprise, looking to Solas, before glaring at Alistair. “What did you say?”

“I just asked why he was **_really_** with you.” Alistair replied, as he hesitantly took food from the tray. “I didn't think he'd go all **_scary_** on me.”

“You're lucky ** _I_ ** don't go all scary on you.” She pointed out. Before Solas could luck any more smug than he already does, she turned to him. “And you! You're already in trouble. Getting yourself arrested without telling me first.”

“My apologies, _Ara Tarlan_.” Solas replied, unable to keep the grin from his face. “Forgive me for frightening you friend?”

“At least **_try_** to look apologetic.” She admonished teasingly, laughing out loud when Solas actually tried to make his face look apologetic when it was clear he was not.

* * *

 

That night, Solas found himself curled up with her in bed. Biscuit snuggled somewhere at the bottom of the bed, having decided that was the best place to leap from should it be needed. They did not sleep, or tried not to, simply wanting to touch and be touched. Sleep claimed them both eventually, regardless of their desire to stay awake with each other, though Solas managed to stay awake a little longer than she did. He watched as the stress left her face in sleep, and sighed.

Where he had stayed in the cells for weeks while Lavellan was receiving council from everyone she could contact, Vael had also been sending people to speak with Lavellan. Those people usually found their way to Alhasha at some point, and though she never said anything about it, he knew. The messengers that came to Cullen, or one of the guards, would tell him what they'd seen. Even if they weren't a part of the network he'd built, they knew he would want to know about her safety and wellbeing. On those days, her smile was a little more strained, and her eyes held unshed tears; but she would go on as they had, taking comfort in the touch of his hand through the bars.

“ _Ir abelas, Lath'in._ ” Solas murmured, feeling sleep slowly take him. “ _Tael melana, Ar shor vara si shem'el elithast sai na._ ”

**_I'm sorry, Love – Next time, I will leave the improve decisions to you_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to add my update for Hawke's Legacy while I was at my friends house, so I'll be typing that up for you guys via phone net .......yay lol


	41. Return to the Winter Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas' first chance to prove her world means as much to him as his own......doesn't go quite as planned, but it's still quite the party. Though he hears news that lightens his heart, trouble is on the horizon, but then again, isn't it always?

Chapter 41

 

It wasn't long until they were sent to their first contact. Empress Celene had requested the meeting ages ago, though she had not known who exactly it was then that she'd been requesting; having only wanted to hear about The mysterious mage Solas and The Lady Hawke, after having them steal away in her private carriage. Now, with the added prestige of Fen'harel and this mysterious figure Sulahn'ean no one seemed to know about, the Winter Palace was a buzz of activity. Briala was equally as excited as Celene herself was, talking about how good this could be for the elves, but both knew she would have to curb her excitement while the two were there. After all, there was bound to be more than one assassination attempt that night.

Preparing for the Lady Hawke was easy, to an extent. Her history was widely known, if not extensively exaggerated, though her time as Sulahn'ean was less so. They could use that to help them. Preparing for the mysterious mage Solas, who had turned out to be Fen'harel, was not so easy to prepare for. His stories were so steeped in myth that fact could hardly be separated from fiction after all this time.

* * *

 

Hawke was a little wary about being back in this place, but she could not deny the beauty that was the Winter Palace. The servants of the Stables greeted them warmly, remembering them from before. She was happier to see them under better circumstances, and they her. Solas thanked them again for their kindness when they did not know who they were, before the two headed towards the entrance to the Winter Palace itself. It was easy to see that he was nervous, even if she could not feel it through their bond, but this was something he was going to have to deal with if he wanted to show he'd meant his words before.

They were walking through the lovely gardens before the stairs when all of a sudden Hawke heard a voice she hadn't heard in years. Without even thinking about it, she ran to find the owner of the voice. She didn't even realize she'd left Solas behind. Ignoring the people that tried to stop her to talk, she continued to search for the voice, intent on her path. When she found the source of the voice, she squealed in delight, alerting the owner to her presence.

“Pretty bird!” Sandal exclaimed, happy to see her there.

“Sandal! I'm so glad to see you!” Hawke said, before hugging him. “Where's your father?”

“Right here, Messere.” Bodahn said, as he was walking into the room with some new equipment for his son. “The palace has been absolutely buzzing with excitement since they found out you were coming back. Then again, I'd guess your latest adventures might have something to do with that, ay? It's good to see you again, Messere Hawke.”

“It's good to see you too, Bodahn.” Hawke said, with a happy sigh. “I have so much to tell you, and I can't wait to hear what you two have been doing.”

“We'll have plenty of time for that, I'm sure.” Bodahn said, happily, setting down the box of things for Sandal. “I wish we could have spoken when you were here last, but things didn't work out like we'd planned. Oh well, at least things worked out this time.”

“Big wolf searches. Not again. Not again.” Sandal said, in that strange voice he got sometimes.

“Oh, no! **_Solas!_ ”** Hawke groaned, realizing she'd left him behind in a garden filled with nobles. “I can't believe I just **_left_** him back there.”

“He's the one we've been hearing about? He's that Fen'harel fellow?” Bodahn asked. “I've heard good and bad things, but the only thing I care about is that he treats you right. I take it he does, then? I'd say so, if that smile of yours is anything to go by.”

“He really does, Bodahn.” Hawke replied, with a soft smile.

“Then I look forward to meeting him, Messere.” Bodahn stated, seeing how happy she was.

“ _Lath'in_?” Solas called, searching, before looking into the room they were in. She could feel his relief, and felt a little guilty that she had made him worry. “ _Lath'in_ , I thought…" He paused, seeing the two dwarves with her now. "…I take it these two are friends of yours?”

“Bodahn, Sandal, this is _Fen'harel,_ but please…call him Solas.” Hawke stated, introducing them. “Solas, this is Bodahn and his adopted son Sandal. I heard Sandal before, and had to find him. I shouldn't have left you back there.”

“It is an honour to meet you, Messere Solas.” Bodahn insisted, shaking his hand, then brough his son over. “After Hawke rescued my son during that trip in the Deep Roads, we stayed on with her for several years. She almost refused having me as a servant in her household, till I explained that I felt I owed her a life debt for saving my boy Sandal. She's a good one, she is.”

“You never owed me a life debt, Bodahn.” Hawke objected, but she smiled as she said it. It was something the two had never agreed on.

“Nonsense.” Bodahn insisted, in his fatherly way. “He could have gotten killed down there if you hadn't found him. I know you said he froze an ogre, but I'm still not sure how he did it. One of his enchantments, I suppose. It was an honour to serve your house for as long as I did.”

“You and Sandal both saved my hide more than enough to cover any debt, but I admit, that house would have been all the more lonely without you two being a part of it.” Hawke stated, with a whispy sort of smile.

“Will Big Wolf stop Scary Lady?” Sandal asked looking over to him. Hawke wasn't sure what he would think, because half of the time even Hawke had trouble following Sandal's line of thinking.

“Why are you worried about her?” Solas asked, before Bodahn could object.

“Pretty bird has what she **_needs_.”** Sandal insisted, making Solas tense before relaxing again.

“I will do what I can, Sandal, to keep Scary Lady from Pretty bird.” Solas replied, something that seemed to appease the young dwarf. The young dwarf left quickly, and came back just as fast, before placing something in his hand.

**_“Not_** boom.” Sandal explained, and then left.

“I don't know what he means about Scary Lady, there's no one there.” Bodahn said, with a sigh. “He is very insistant about it though.”

“It is alright, Bodahn, I think I understand what he means.” Solas explained, to Bodahn's surprise. “The boy is Fade Touched, sensitive to the workings of Spirits and those that can manipulate the Fade. It would explain how he knows things, and his inability to articulate them in a manner most would understand. He speaks as if you already understand, and so some of it can get lost in translation if you don't already.”

“You've met others like him then?” Bodahn asked, with a mixture of hope and curiosity.

“Not to this extent, no. I doubt there is anyone else quite like your son on this side of the Veil. His abilities appear to be…extensive, putting it lightly.” Solas explained, as Sandal and Hawke talked to each other. “He is right to worry after Lady Hawke's safety though. Whether the woman he speaks of is a danger to her or not, _Alhasha_ has a tendency towards trouble. ( _He chuckled in spite of himself_ ) She is the only one I know of who could **_literally_** fall onto the back of a sleeping dragon.”

* * *

 

Solas had been nervous for a variety of reasons. This was the place that Vael had managed to take Alhasha from him, so it made him nervous as if anticipating another attack on her person. There was the fact that every noble there kept asking him questions, and they hadn't even made it to Empress Celene yet. Alhasha darting all over the place had worried him, because he could not follow after her easily, having been cornered by more nobles that he had to play nice to as he had been, but he'd been glad that she'd found people she remembered from Kirkwall. They, at least, would care for the person she had been before all of this, instead of constantly asking her about this Sulahn'ean they were all hearing about now.

The irony was not lost on him. He used to own nobles like this, be able to work a room without effort. Now he had to be different, show that Alhasha's world was as important to him as his own. His mind froze at that thought, and he looked around the garden they had barely made it through. This was not Alhasha's world, filled with stuffy nobles that care nothing for her; That boy and his father, **_they_** were her world.

“I just don't see how something like that is possible.” A pompose nobleman insisted, talking with Alhasha. “I myself have never even heard of such a thing, and I've studied at the University of Orlais!”

“Is that what I sounded like before, _Sulahn'ean?”_ Solas asked, looking to Alhasha as he inserted himself into the conversation. She blushed lightly, as he only ever called her this during any kind of private moment the two shared.

“A bit.” She admitted, with a twitch of her lips. “Though how anyone was able to see around that big head of yours is anyone's guess.”

“It is a wonder that you fell in love with me at all, if **_that_** is how I sounded, _Lath'in_.” Solas noted, with a teasing air, noting how red the man's face was getting out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you saying that I-” The nobleman tried to ask, affronted by her insinuation. “How **_dare_** you?! I'll have you know that I-”

“Don't care in the slightest.” Solas stated, interrupting the man, as he walked away with Alhasha. He leaned in, and asked quietly. “How bad was that?”

“Nowhere near as bad as what ** _I_** was about to do.” Alhasha admitted, sheepishly. “You looked a bit lost in thought before. Are you alright?”

“Just that I had not caught the possible double meaning in Lavellan's words till this moment.” Solas explained, as the two finally made it into the palace. “This is not your world, _Alhasha_.” He held his hand up to stop her from interrupting. “Playing nice for the nobles is what will keep the Inquisition safe, I understand **_that_ _,_** but it is not your world. You are a noble by right, more so than any here, but your world is made up of people like those two dwarves that treat you like family.”

“Trying to get out of trouble already?” She asked, grinning wolfishly over at him.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He replied, refusing to admit that he had forgotten that she was holding onto that.

* * *

 

The guests of honour had vanished, not that the other nobels had noticed just yet, all of them guessing that they were in a different room conversing with some of the other nobles. One elf looked like another to them, but Briala had been tasked with keeping an eye out for their safety, and now they were gone. Fuck! The only place she hasn't checked is the…Briala swiftly turned around, and headed straight for the servants quarters. It was more like they had their own wing, after all the renevations were completed, but she hadn't thought to check it. Just as she suspected, celebratory noises were coming from further into the area, and so she continued her quiet journey to investigate.

Was this where most of the other servants had gone? There was music, dancing, and in the middle of it all were the guests she was looking for. Fen'harel and Sulahn'ean danced with the others in the room. No one bowed to them here, or wore a mask, and even Briala had to admit that it looked like the more lively party compared to the one she had just left from. What she did not expect was for Fen'harel to be gone when she looked back again, while Sulahn'ean danced with that dwarven boy Sandal.

“I had half expected you to find us before now.” Fen'harel said, casually, standing next to her as he leaned against the wall. Briala tried not to show that he had surprised her. “Any longer, and _Alhasha_ would have started with the drinking games.”

“Too late!” Sulahn'ean shouted happily, laughing when she saw the kegs being brought out. “Who wants to play ' _shot glass roulette_ '?” She went over to where the kegs were being placed. “Inside **_one_** of these kegs is maraas-lok. Who's brave enough to go first?”

“Most definitely not me, _Lath'in_.” Fen'harel replied, with a grin. “Once was enough.”

“You're never going to let that go, are you?” Sulahn'ean teased. “I tricked you into drinking it one time.”

“How in all of Thedas did you trick _Fen'harel_ into drinking **_maraas-lok?”_** Briala couldn't stop herself from asking.

“With something I had not expected. A kiss.” Fen'harel admitted, amused when laughter burst out through the room. When the games continued, he turned his attention to her. “So, how long do we have before the nobles notice we're gone?”

“If they have not begun to wonder where you are, they will soon.” Briala informed him. “How did **_this_** even happen?”

“I may have made an observation earlier that she took to heart.” Fen'harel supplied, turning his gaze back to Sulahn'ean. “Her world must be as important to me as my own, but it was never the nobles that held her dear to them. She is more at home among people whose struggles she has lived, than a life she should have been born into. A game of DiamondBack in a seedy tavern with friends is more meaningful to her than the empty words of a nobleman in a beautiful ballroom.”

“Be that as it may, I think the nobles may start to miss us soon.” Empress Celene whispered, quietly and with some amusement, making nearly everyone jump out of their skin. Sulahn'ean just laughed, and made her way over to them.

“No need for masks here, Celene.” Sulahn'ean insisted, happily, and plucked the thing right off the empress's face before taking her hands into her own. “Come on, let's dance! This is a party, after all.”

Before the woman could even think to object, Sulahn'ean had pulled her onto the dance floor, guiding her through the steps of the dance. Briala watched in shock, having met no one who would even think to take off the mask of the empress. The other servants were shocked as well, but something told her that they had had time to get used to Sulahn'ean's behaviours, because the music had not stopped once. Fen'harel chuckled as he watched on, both wondering how long it would take the nobles to simply move the party there, when he turned to her as he held out his hand. She wasn't sure what he wanted, and even a city elf like herself had grown up hearing cautionary tales to avoid Fen'harel.

“What do you say? Should we give them a run for their money?” Fen'harel asked, and waited.

Briala took off her mask, placing it on the table, before putting her hand into his own, and replied. “Nobles parties are going to be so dull after this.”

* * *

 

It was bound to happen sooner or later, but Iron Bull wished it had never had to come about at all. The leaders of the Qun have finally gotten in contact with him, and they knew **_everything_ _._** The only reason he isn't dead or declared Tal-vashoth yet was because he could deliver them Fen'harel and Sulahn'ean in one fell swoop. If he does what they're asking, he'll be betraying not only the Inquisition, but his friends as well as his men; he knew what Dorian would think of this. But If he doesn't do what they're asking, he'll be declared Tal-vashoth, and lose everything.

Solas' words come back to him now. Not many get the chance to choose both their heart's desire and their people. The day Solas had wished never to find Iron Bull had finally done so. It was always going to be this way, he knew, and he hated it now more than he had when he'd fought in Seharon. The choice he'd made then was to turn himself in to the reeducators, but was that something he could do to himself this time?

At least, right now, he didn't have to make that choice. All he had to do was set up a talk with the Inquisitor. She'd go for an alliance, knowing that the Qun hated red lyrium as much as anyone else. A temporary alliance would work in everyone's favor. All he had to do was figure out how to keep Solas and Hawke out of the hands of the Qun while still remaining part of it himself, if such a thing were even possible.

* * *

 

Meanwhile…

 ( ** _Would now be a good time to mention a suggestive theme warning thingy? Pretend this is it lol_** )

It wasn't until they all sat down to a private dinner that Solas began wondering what Alhasha had in mind since he was in _'trouble'_ again. Only Empress Celene, Briala, Bodahn, Sandal, and Alhasha were seated at the table with him; at least of those whose names he knew. It was certainly a much more casual affair than the last time they had dined in the Winter Palace. The food and drink were excellent as always, and the conversation had become less of an investigation and more of shared stories. Only then did he become aware of a caress trailing up his leg.

The sensation surprised him, but no one seemed to notice. After a moment, he passed it off as a fluke, or a bit of cloth under the table, and gave it no further thought. He would have thought nothing more of it, except for that it happened again, this time a little further up. At that, he froze, and tried to judge who it was. There were a few close members of court Empress Celene had insisted be there, but they did not look like they were trying to touch him, and they were horrible about being discrete.

“Are you alright, _Ara'nas_?” Alhasha asked, sweetly; in a tone she had most definitely never used unless she was planning something. Ah, he should have known. He was in _'trouble'_ after all.

“Of course. Never better.” He replied, with a slight grin. “I was simply lost in thought. What were we talking about?”

“That time you fell through the roof because of BarkSpawn.” She replied, grinning mischievously. The sensation moved even further up, before disappearing momentarily, and he shuddered at the loss of it. “Are you _**sure**_ you're alright?”

“I believe that is an appropriate reaction when remembering such an event.” He stated, with a shake of his head as he chuckled lightly. “I did, after all, fall through a roof with a full grown mabari.”

There was a lot of laughter had at that. He found himself telling stories of his own, like the time Alhasha tried to bribe him with cookies, or the times he would listen to her sing when she thought no one could hear. She retaliated with grace by sharing stories as well, such her winning his clothes in DiamondBack and then wearing them the next day like a trophy, not that he didn't love that particular story, as it brought the memory of it to his mind's eye; he was pretty sure she still had those clothes somewhere. Each story accompanied by a phantom touch on different parts of his body, whether she told the story or he did. He damn near lost his mind when her phantom touches began caressing his ears, barely able to keep his reaction to himself, so as not to alert the rest of the dinner party to his torment.

As far as the others were concerned, this was a simple dinner party with honoured guests. They had no **_idea_** what Alhasha was doing to him, and she gave no indication to anyone that she was even doing magic. Thankfully, this kind of torment was not continuous, otherwise he would not have made it. She would often stop the phantom touches whenever she felt him about to give in to them. By the end of the night, every nerve ending felt like it was on fire in the most delicious way possible, and he found he could barely make himself listen to Bodahn telling a story about Alhasha and Sandal goofing off and swinging from the chandaliers; amusing story though it was.

“The stories circulating around your capture and the battle of Kirkwall are intriguing.” One of the three identically masked women noted. Internally, he called them the fate sisters, but such references would be lost on them.

“And so **_romantic!”_** One of the other ones added.

“That the King of Starkhaven would be responsible for such a thing is simply too much!” The last of them exclaimed.

“I am sure that we can discuss this tomorrow.” Empress Celene stated, diplomatically. “It is late, and we all need rest.”

Another sensation _'gripped'_ him then, and he had to hide the gasp in a yawn. The woman was going to **_kill_** him at this rate! Of course, after seeing him 'yawn' the others agreed to call it a night, as it would not do to have the guests of honour falling asleep at the dinner table. A part of him wondered why he hadn't thought to do that earlier. Another part of him wondered if it would have worked before the empress suggested it.

“Tomorrow then.” Solas managed, barely. He couldn't take one more phantom touch at the moment; he'd most likely die.

* * *

 

She had never seen anyone look so relieved to be going to bed. He didn't say a word as they left the room to go to their temporary sleeping quarters, and she began to feel guilty. Maybe she had pushed him too far. She could feel how close to the edge he was, how nerve wrecked his mind was. She'd meant to sexually frustrate him, but she hadn't meant to push him to the point where he refused to speak to her.

“ _Ir abelas, Solas_ , I-!” She'd been about to apologize for frustrating him as she had, as they got to their temporary room, when he turned her around and pinned her against the now closed door.

_He's shaking! Why is he shaking?!_ Hawke thought, in alarm. The only thing she could think to do was put her arms around him, and hold him close, not that he could **_get_** any closer than he already was. He was shaking, and breathing deeply, his face buried in her neck as if trying to breathe in the scent of her. She just rubbed his back until he stopped shaking, but then he started nibbling on her neck! Before she knew it, he had hooked one of her legs around his waist, pressing himself against her. He seemed very intent about it, and now she was confused. Hadn't he been upset with her before?

“Solas, I thought-” She tried again.

“ _Sathan, tel'banalasa'em, Ara Sulahn'ean._ ” Solas pleaded, though it was muffled by his continuous effort to kiss and nibble along her neck. “ _Ar i_ _salan hima sa i'na…elvar'nas tunan…siu nual…Saota or ara'nas._ _”_

**_Please, don't deny me, my song bird – I lust to become one with you…wicked torture…sweet torment…Mate of my soul_ **

“I thought you were **_mad_** at me!” She insisted, causing him to stop his ministrations on her neck, and kiss along her jawline. “I mean, I sexually tortured you in front of people without them realizing it. **_Wow_ ,** that sounds terrible now that I've said it out loud like that, worse than what Va-”

**“ _No_ ,** _Alhasha_ , listen to me.” Solas stated, surprising her out of her thoughts as his lips occasionally caressed her skin. “During any of that, did I give you the indication that I wanted you to **_stop_?”**

“Well, no, but-” She tried again, but Solas stopped her.

“ _Alhasha_ , had I **_wanted_** to, I could have **_told_** you in some way to stop.” Solas insisted, resting his head against her own. “The difference is you **_would_** have stopped, had I wished it. You are not like that foul cretin. Do not compare yourself to him again. _Lath'in_ , what you did was some of the most excruciating torture I have ever experienced in my life, and I enjoyed…every…single…bit of it.”

( ** _End of suggestive warning thingy. No idea if it was needed, but there ya go lol_** )

* * *

 

Solas woke up feeling content, something he imagined he would always marvel at now. He thought back to the night before, and smiled at the memory of it. They were careful most of the time, but nights like those…when he lost himself in the pleasure only she could bring him, neither of them were careful then. She insisted the potions and teas she drank prevented pregnancy, but even he knew they were not fullproof. It made him wonder if those things had harmed her in some way, where she had started taking them well before the age she should have been; it also made him wonder if he simply was not capable of giving her children.

The thought had never occurred to him before, but now? He thought back on the carnal filled decadence that was his past in Elvhenan. How had he never noticed that none of the women came back, telling of a child within their womb? Not one had come back to him with that news, and he doubted very much that all of them had taken preventative measures the way his Lath'in did. Movement in the bed told him that he'd been broadcasting his emotions too much, and now his Lath'in was going to want to know what was wrong. He wasn't sure he knew how to explain this, and her sleepy gaze told him she would be patient in this.

“ _Lath'in, te na nuva sul da'len?_ ” He asked, hesitantly. It was easier for him to articulate his thoughts this way, and from the feelings he got through their bond, she understood this.

**_Love, do you wish for children?_ **

“It's not an **_active_** wish, no, but I would love any child we had, Solas. I **_have_** wondered what that would be like for us though.” Alhasha said, with a sleepy smile. “Why? What's wrong? _Na britha nuem, Ara'nas._ ”

**_You look troubled, my soul_ **

“ _Ahn vis tel'ela'ar'an? Ahn vis…t_ _el'ela'ar? Ahn vis ra air si sa'rahnen Ar ela tel sul'ema na?_ _” Solas asked. The more he thought about it, the more it bothered him._

**_What if we can't? What if…I can't? What if that is the one thing I can not give you?_ **

“Then I will be happy with what I have. I am already blessed with more than I had ever thought to have in this life, Solas.” Alhasha said, trying to comfort him. “If that is something that ever happens for us, then I will welcome it. Until then, this is enough for me…Are children something **_you_** desire to have?”

“I think you said it best, _Lath'in._ I have more than I have any right to expect, more than I could ever deserve.” Solas admitted, breathing a sigh of relief that she understood his concerns and consoled him as she could, but he felt she needed to know more. He began tracing little patterns along her stomach as he continued speaking. “But I would be lying if I said I have not pictured what it would be like to see you with child, to see you hold them in your arms, watch as they take their first steps, say their first words. I have wondered, _Alhasha,_ the kind of mother you would be, the kind of father I would be.”

“Maker's breath!” Alhasha declared, unable to hold back the sudden burst of laughter. “Could you imagine it, if we ever do have children, the look on the poor soul's face that has to ask _Fen'harel_ for permission to court his daughter?”

“Poor soul, indeed.” Solas agreed, smiling at where the conversation had gone, more so because of what she'd just said. “A _**daughter,** Lath'in_?”

She blushed instantly, burrowing her face into his chest, and grumbled. “It was just a stupid dream, Solas. You don't have to **_laugh_** at me.”

“You have **_dreamed_** of this?” Solas asked, in mild shock. He hadn't expected her to feel insulted by his teasing. “ _Lath'in_ , I do not mean to laugh at you, not over something like this. Tell me this dream of yours. _Sathan, ara lath?_ ”

**_Please, my love?_ **

“Sometimes I see her in my dreams.” She admitted, with her face still hidden in his chest, her voice so small he had to strain to hear it. “I see you in her smile, but she has my eyes. Her hair is dark like mine, but I see bits of brown in it too. She disappears when I try to talk to her though.”

Joy he had never known floods through him. They will have a daughter! Someday, maybe far off into the future, but they would have a daughter! He had not thought it possible, yet Alhasha had once again given him something he thought he could never have. So swept up in his joy was he, that he began kissing Alhasha with every bit of passion he had, only letting up when he knew they needed more air.

“What did I say, _Ara'nas_?” Alhasha asked, in a daze. “I want to know, so I can say it again.”

“We will have…a daughter some day,… _Alhasha_ …I thought…we would never…be able.” Solas confessed, intent on showering her with kisses now. “ _Ei asha'lan_ …It is enough to know… _ma serannas, ara lath'in_ …for putting my mind at ease.”

**_A daughter……thank you, my place where love lives_ **

“I don't understand.” She said, shivering when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot near her ear. “It was just a dream, something I made up. I started wondering what our future children would look like, and-”

“And she showed up in front of you.” Solas finished for her. When Alhasha nodded, he explained. “Whether you knew it or not, you called to her, and she to you. It is not time magic, not in the sense of what was done in Redcliffe, but in a way it is a window of sorts…a daughter…we will have a daughter some day, _Lath'in_ …”

* * *

 

The way Solas carried on the rest of the time they were at the Winter Palace, it was like someone had told him they were going to have a daughter any day now instead of possibly sometime far off into the future. The man looked like he could practically burst with pride, and Hawke snickered as the nobles didn't seem to know what to do with this new Fen'harel. Snide remarks could not cut him, accusations did not phase him. It warmed Hawke's heart to see him so happy, but she knew that such a high state of happiness came with a downside, and hoped that he wouldn't be too unreasonable when he realized what it was. She was who she was, as he was who he was, and soon it would all come crashing down around them.

She knew something wasn't right when they made it back to Skyhold, but she couldn't place it. They had located something to help Cole, though they hadn't tested it yet, so that wasn't it. Hawke had plans to deal with Bianca, so that wasn't it. She went over the possibilities in her head as Josephine went over the news their visit to Halam'shiral. Nothing seemed out of place, and so she set it to the back of her mind for the time being.

“So, Chuckles seems strangely happy.” Varric noted, looking over to her, as they walked towards the healer's new set up. “What did you do to him?”

“You really want me to answer that, Varric?” She asked, innocently, laughing when he cringed. “Do you remember that phantom thing I did in Kirkwall to confuse and annoy the Templars?”

“The what?” Varric asked. So Hawke flipped the air. Varric was holding his ear in pain a second later. “Damn it, Flint, that hur… ** _Ohhh._** You mean you…How did you use it on him?”

“I deliciously tortured that man throughout the entire dinner, and no one noticed. Being a mage has its perks, Dwarf.” She teased, with a chuckle. “He barely made it through with his sanity, said it was the most deliciously excruciating torture he'd ever experienced in his life.”

“That poor elf.” Varric said, in something akin to reverence. “So, you planning on going to the Storm Coast with us?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Hawke replied. “I think Solas might stay this time, or come with, not sure. Just let me drop this stuff off first. How soon are we leaving?”

“Lavellan said after she gets through talking with Solas. Apparently you two made **_quite_** an impact in Halam'shiral, even after Solas managed to scare the shit out of the King of Fereldan.” Varric remarked, with a wry smile. “He told me about that, by the way. I kind of wish I could have watched that. I can almost picture it now, King Alistair huddling in a corner, afraid of the big bad wolf.”

She chuckled, even as she was dropping of the herbs to Anders.

“Thanks, Hawke. These will help a lot.” Anders said, thankful for the herbs. He'd settled in quite well in helping to organize the Inquisition's healers, whether they were a mage or not. This is what he should have always been doing, if that contented smile was anything to go by.

“We're heading off to the Storm Coast soon. Need anything?” Hawke asked.

“Black Lotus, if you can find it.” Anders said, after looking over the stores. “I can use it in lyrium potions, and those confusing grenades Lavellan likes so much.”

“Got it.” Hawke agreed, and they were out. “So, why do we need to go to the Storm Coast, anyway?”

“Some big Qun/Inquisition team up thing. They want a temporary alliance with Lightning. Guessing they don't like red lyrium any more than we do.” Varric said, as they made their way back to the courtyard. Hawke tensed. “What is it Flint? I know that face.”

“Solas doesn't know yet, does he?” Hawke asked, keeping her voice light.

“I don't think so, not yet anyway.” Varric replied, with a frown.

“Let's keep it that way then.” Hawke said, determined now, as she went back to the courtyard.

“Why?” Varric asked, and then groaned when he realized the truth of it. “It's a trap, isn't it? Maker's Balls. Of course it is.”

“If he finds out, he'll want to go, and if he goes, the Qun will have _Fen'harel_ in a place of their choosing.” Hawke remarked.

“You're not going then, are you?” Varric asked, looking like he already knew the answer. “Flint, if **_you_** go, the Qun would still have a way to get to him.”

“They'll come after Skyhold, if I don't go.” She said, troubled by her thoughts. “I can't let that happen.”

* * *

 

“Solas, if you don't wipe that grin off your face, Varric is going to re-nickname you something even more dreadful than Chuckles.” Lavellan said, after the meeting.

“I can only imagine what he would come up with, but it seems I can not grant this request, _Lethal'lan._ ” Solas replied, struggling to keep his more stoic nature active. “I am simply…too happy…to grant it.”

“You two set a date for the wedding then?” Lavellan asked, shocking Solas, and the woman groaned. “She hasn't even talked to you about that, has she?”

“No, but I am not surprised. She keeps the things she wants most close to her heart, hides them like a treasured secret.” Solas reasoned, with a slight smile, as if thinking of a treasured memory. “We really are too much alike sometimes.”

“Alright, so if that isn't it, what is it? Why are you all smiles?” Lavellan asked, suspiciously.

“I am unsure if she would wish for me to speak of it.” Solas replied, uncertain. “She eased a fear I did not realize I possessed until I confronted her with it. If she chooses to tell you, we may speak more on it then. Now, about this...wedding…Did she give any hints as to what she would like? In _Arlathan_ , she told me about engagement rings, and I rather liked that custom. So I adopted it, but I do not know…We did not discuss wedding traditions from this time, and I had not thought to look into them myself…”

“You want me to play wing man?” She asked, with a sheepish grin.

“Would you really?” Solas asked, chuckling when Lavellan nodded enthusiastically. “Tell me you do not help like _Alhasha._ ”

“I don't think **_anyone_** could help quite like she does.” Lavellan admitted. “I did ask Varric to see if she'd go on a mission to the Storm Coast with me, so I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to ask her about what she likes while we're gone.”

“How would you even do that without rousing her suspicions?” Solas asked, doubtful of her plan.

“Simple.” Lavellan stated, with a mischievous grin, holding up her left hand for him to see the ring it now bore. “I'll ask for help with mine.”

* * *

 

It was Lavellan, Hawke, Varric, and Iron Bull in the party that set out to the Storm Coast. That night had them telling stories by the fire, laughing at Biscuits antics, and generally having a good time. Lavellan wasn't sure how to start asking Hawke questions, and it didn't take the others long before seeing that she wanted to say something. So, of course, Varric makes a big showing of it, setting the scene and all. Lavellan just shakes her head in wonderment, laughing at the man's antics.

“So, Lightning, what gives? You holding out on us?” Varric asks, looking over at her. “Are there new bets to place? Or settle?”

She bit her lip nervously, and went for it. “Cullen asked the question.”

“A question? He asked a question?” Varric asked, in a huff, knowing she wasn't telling everything somehow.

“No, dwarf. He asked **_the_** question.” She replied, holding up her left hand to show off the ring. Everyone started tossing Hawke coin.

“I thank you for your generous donations to my ' _feed the mabari war-hound'_ fund.” Hawke said, with a gracious air. Biscuit barks once. “Biscuit thanks you as well.”

“How did you know?” Lavellan asked, in shock. Cullen had said he'd been very carefull when selecting her ring.

“I kind of thought something was suspicious when he asked about Solas's taste in jewelry.” Hawke replied, with a knowing smirk. “As I only wear two pieces of jewelry, it wasn't that hard to guess.”

“That's cheating, Hawke.” Bull remarked, with a slight grin, shaking his head.

“Not my fault that no one asked if I had insider knowledge when I placed my bet.” Hawke teased, then turn to Lavellan. “Now, since you were so interested in mine, I get to ask. When's the wedding?”

 


	42. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's torture in this chapter. It's vague, and most of what I concentrate on is their state of mind during.

Chapter 42

 

Things had felt slightly off ever since Alhasha had left. He supposed it was the suspense of things. Lavellan still carried around that communications crystal, as a symbol of her promise to review the alliance between their two organizations later on. Communications through such long distances was rather convenient, but the crystals themselves where hard to produce, and so he and Lavellan were the only ones to have them. He doubted that she would use it now, to relay what Alhasha had thought about wedding traditions, but he kept it close just in case.

Something was flitting about on the edge of his senses, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. To either distract himself, or bring it into focus, Solas had set about covering over the fresco's he had painted in the rotunda. They were by a man who had hidden things from everyone, stubbornly trying to fix things on his own. That was no longer who he wanted to be, and he hoped that this would allow him the space to paint the new future he saw for them. Suddenly, Cole stood near him looking more troubled than he had in a long time, and moved towards him quickly.

“Something is wrong, you must go!” Cole pleaded. “They know you're **_here_ ,** and they have ways to stop me. I can't help.”

“That may be true, but you can hide. You can get help after I'm gone.” Solas told the boy, calmly, knowing that if Cole was here to warn him, it was already too late to stop whoever it was that was after him. Cole began to look distressed. “It is alright, Cole. Sometimes, you have to let the bad things happen before you can help.”

Cole calmed down, and looked thoughtful for a moment. “I understand. Thank you.”

He was gone without another word. The something flitting across the edge of his senses made more…well, sense, now. Whoever it was, was making their move. Where these the ones with the spies he could not hear? Had those been in Vael's employ or had he been in theirs? He had just enough time to set the brush down over the communications crystal, before someone burst into the rotunda.

“ _Ara Tarlen! Av sul'na suleth. Es'an nuven'in na ena sasha._ ” One of the messengers, a young man he'd recruited in the beginning of all this, said; his voice urgent but hushed. Solas nodded, and began to leave the room to meet whoever this was, but was surprised when the young man stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “ _Ane'na'nadas ra'air ha? Es'an shor ema_ ** _asa_** _vis'na'vir._ ”

**_Mi'lord! Message for you at the gate. They request you come alone – Are you sure that's wise? They will have_ her _if you go._**

“ _Es'an shor ema asa vis Ar tel'vir_ , whoever they may be…if they don't already.” Solas replied, then realized something. “She knew.”

**_They will have her if I don't go_ **

“Messere?” The young man asked, with uncertainty.

“She's walked into a trap, knowing it for what it was, or she will be.” Solas explained, now wishing he'd given Alhasha one of the communications crystals instead. **_“_ _That_** is why I have been anxious these last few days.”

“Why would she do that?” The young man asked, now very troubled.

“I have a feeling _Alhasha_ was trying to spare Skyhold. Had she avoided the trap, as one normally would, the chances were possibly more likely that whoever this is would storm Skyhold to get to us. We would win, but not without a cost, one _Alhasha_ was not willing to pay.” Solas replied, before taking the communications crystal out from under the brush. “That is why I will go. Take this, and give it to Dorian. He will know what to do with it.”

* * *

 

Blackwall was taking his latest wood carved toys over to some of the children of the Inquisition, when he saw Solas cross the courtyard. That was not odd, but what was was everything else. Solas walked with a purpose, his jaw set, weaponless, his eyes staring straight ahead, as if he were…as if he were planning to **… _no_.** The realization of what it looked like Solas was going to do made Blackwall drop all of the toys, and make a beeline for the ancient elf, even as he shouted after him. Solas made no acknowledgment that he'd heard Blackwall calling after him. It was only when Blackwall grabbed a hold of his arm that Solas stopped at all.

“I don't know who it is, but no. Not weaponless, and certainly not alone, Solas.” Blackwall stated, determined to get this man to see reason.

“Do you really think I need a **_weapon_ _?!”_** Solas scoffed at the thought.

“I doubt it, but still.” Blackwall reiterated. “Not alone, Solas.”

“If I **_don't_** go alone, they'll storm Skyhold to get to me.” Solas snapped, trying to pull himself from Blackwall's grip. “Is that what you want? Are you **_really_** prepared to tell those children that one or both of their parents might not come back because they were defending someone who's already really fucking hard to kill?”

“I could say the same about Lavellan. Now what is this about?” Blackwall said, not backing down.

“ _Alhasha._ What's the last mission she went on?” Solas asked, not really answering his question.

“Something on the Storm Coast. The Qun wanted a temporary alliance…” Blackwall trailed off, seeing how pale the elf got. “Solas, what is it?”

“The Iron Bull…I should never have put him in this position. He will have to choose…He may have already, I don't know.” Solas said, talking to himself, not making any sense. “The Qun knows who I was, who **_Alhasha_** was. They will use one of us to get to the other, and _Alhasha_ went on that mission **_knowing_** this, because…I don't know if she thought she could bluff her way out of this like she has so many other things, or if she thinks we will be able to find her before things go horribly wrong, but I **_do_** know that she would not risk what happened at Haven to happen here at Skyhold, not when she thought she could prevent it…So I will go, and hope we can bluff our way through this, and buy the Inquisition time to find us, because that is the only thing to do now.”

“Solas, they'll kill you…” Blackwall insisted.

“What would you do for Lady Montilyet?” Solas asked, and Blackwall let go of him.

“Dammit, Solas……What do you need?” Blackwall asked, seeing he wasn't going to talk Solas out of this. He still hadn't figured out a way to get Josephine to talk to him, but he understood what Solas meant.

“Get Dorian. Talk to the Commander. Come up with a plan. Do not stop me.” Solas replied. “I will buy time, leave a trail, if I can.”

He was walking away before Blackwall could stop him again. After that, Blackwall booked it to Dorian, who was looking at a marble like it was the most treasured jewel in the Inquisition. He didn't even bother trying to figure that one out, and instead, shoved him out the door and down the stairs that lead to Cullen's office. If Hawke had walked into a trap, by extension, Lavellan had too. There was no way that woman would let Hawke walk into a trap set up by the Qun without her.

“Damn it, Blackwall, what is it?!” Dorian shouted, as he was shoved into Cullen's office.

“Rainier, what is the meaning of this?” Cullen asked, still switching in between that and Blackwall as he couldn't decide what to call him yet.

“Solas.” Blackwall declared, not making any sense to the two of them. “Hawke's walking into a trap the Qun have set up. Solas is walking into one now. They're doing it to save **_us_ ,** when it's **_them_** that needs saving!”

“We could **_easily_** defend Skyhold.” Cullen scoffed. “Why would they do that?”

“How many people did we lose at Haven?” Blackwall asked, shutting him up. “How many people could we lose in an attack on Skyhold? Solas just stepped out, demanded I let him go, because Hawke wouldn't want any of those children out there to become orphans. He thinks the Qun would destroy Skyhold to get to him. If Hawke has walked into a trap, Lavellan has as well. Now, what are we going to do about it?!”

“So that's what that messenger was on about.” Dorian realized, holding out the marble. “This is the communications crystal Solas uses to keep in contact with Lavellan. He made it so him and Hawke could have that week away without actually going anywhere, lucky bastard. Do you know how difficult it is to make one of these? We can use it to contact Lavellan and Hawke, but if they're walking into a trap, what can we say without tipping of the Qun?”

“What did Solas say about Iron Bull?” Cullen asked.

“Just that he shouldn't have put him in the position to have to choose, and he's worried. Wouldn't you be?” Blackwall stated, a bit impatient. He had hoped they would run out and try to stop Solas, but they were smart, and had not. “He said to get Dorian, talk to you, make a plan, do not stop him. He'll leave a trail if he can. We don't even know where they'll take him.”

“No, but we know where they'll go first.” Dorian stated, before holding the crystal in front of him. “Inquisitor, dear, is this thing working?”

* * *

 

Things are very tense on the Storm Coast. Everyone is tense, with the mages closing in on the Chargers. Hawke won't say it, because it's not her choice to make, but she wants her to save Bull's men. Bull doesn't look like he knows what to do, knowing that his choice will have consequences beyond just this meeting. Gatt is furious at Bull's hesitation, seeing it as a betrayal, and considering he's been defending him to the Qun; it's a stance Lavellan understands, defending ones friends, but even so…those are her people too, and when she looks at Bull, she see's the choice he wants her to make.

“They're my **_men.”_** He says, quietly, unable to hide the plea in his voice. That's all she needed to hear.

“Sound the horn, Bull.” Lavellan tells him.

The qunari is so relieved, that he can't hide the expression from his face before he does as she says. The Chargers hear the horn, and retreat, leaving the mages to attack the qunari dreadnaught. They all stand and watch as the thing doesn't sink, but explodes. With it, Gatt's temper also explodes. He's fuming, and pacing, looking like he wants to attack, but he won't till he's said his peace.

“You would do this?!” Gatt shouts, angry. “Throw us all away…for **_them?!_** For **_her?_ ”**

“Gatt, don't. It doesn't have to be like this.” Bull pleaded. “You can go home, tell them they weren't here, make something up. Dreadnaught runs go south all the time, you know that. Just say we were overrun. You can say Sulahn'ean was never even here.”

“That you know what they call her makes this **_worse_ ,** Hissrad!” Gatt shouted, shaking his head. “I said you wouldn't, that you **_couldn't_** have known, that they lied too well even for you, but you…you've been covering for them all along!”

“Gatt, **_please_ ,** don't make me do this.” Bull pleads, but it looks like both men have made their minds up.

“I'm sorry, but you leave me no choice, Hissrad.” Gatt replied, sorrowfully.

It happens so quickly, Lavellan can't move at first. It's like they come up out of the ground. Hawke is knocked out within seconds, before she could prepare for the fight, Biscuit too. They recover quickly, Iron Bull and Lavellan making their own team as they take out the qunari surrounding them, but not fast enough to stop them from taking Hawke. No one notices the shot heading for Gatt until it's almost too late. A bolt from Bianca takes out the shot that would have killed the angry little elf, right before Iron Bull pins him to the ground.

“Damn it, where is she?!” Varric demands, searching the area. Instead of Hawke, he finds Biscuit. “Come on, boy, don't you die on her too.”

“There's a heartbeat.” Lavellan said, feeling for a pulse, easing the dwarf's mind. “The question is, what are we going to do with him? And what's going to happen when Solas finds out?”

“He already has.” Gatt remarked, with a smug grin. “Walked out and turned himself over to keep the Qun from attacking Skyhold. That's the plan regardless."

“So the alliance…” Lavellan trailed off.

“A trap, one we wouldn't have been able to set up without Hissrad here.” Gatt sneered, before being punched out by Varric.

“Well, that solves the problem of his mouth, at least.” Varric remarked, making sure to tie up the elf while he was knocked out.

“I'm sorry, Boss. I thought…if I just went along, I wouldn't have to make a choice, and that turned out to be the worst one.” Bull said, looking like he was in actual pain. “I made my choice too late to fix it.”

“We'll get them back, Bull.” Lavellan said, trying to console him, her mind still reeling with the fact that not only had he known about all this, but that he'd just turned his back on the Qun at the last second in an effort to stop it all.

 ** _“Chief!”_** Krem shouted, as he and the Chargers ran up. “A bunch of those qunari bastards took Hawke! We tried to stop them. Dalish and a few others are injured, Healer is going to have to take time to patch them up.”

“I'll do what I can to help.” Lavellan said, seeing the wounded enter the area.

**_~“Inquisitor, darling, is this thing working?”~_ **

“Dorian!” Lavellan exclaimed, fishing out the communications crystal from her pocket. “Tell me you managed to stop Solas!”

 _ **~“If I had, do you think**_ I'd _ **be the one talking to you now?” Dorian sighed. “He stepped out, weaponless, by the way; not that he needs them. Blackwall tried to stop him, but Solas said they would attack Skyhold to get to him, and he wasn't going to risk it. Said, more than likely, Hawke knew she was walking into a trap. Wasn't willing to risk what happened at Haven to happen to Skyhold too.”~**_

If anything, Bull looked like he felt even worse now.

_**~“Tell me Bull didn't…”~** _

“He tried to stop them from taking Hawke.” Lavellan stated. “We weren't successful.”

**_~“Any idea where they could have taken them?” Dorian asked. “Solas said he'd try to leave a trail.”~_ **

“They'd keep them together. Whatever they want with them, we'll find them together.” Bull said, thinking. “We can interrogate Gatt, just as soon as he wakes up. Varric punched the shit out of him.”

_**~“We'll bring a team, meet you on the Storm Coast.” Dorian said, and then the crystal went dark again.~** _

Lavellan went to help Stitches with the wounded. Bull and Varric set up Gatt against a tree. If they were going to interrogate him, they needed to make sure he couldn't escape. No one talked, and it took most of the night to patch everyone up. They woke up some time later to the sounds of Gatt trying to struggle against the ropes.

“The arrow was supposed to kill me!” Gatt shirked, realizing they were awake. “Why did you stop it? They'll kill them anyway. There's no point in you going up against the Qun.”

“Probably not, but Hawke wouldn't leave any of us, so we're not about to leave her there.” Bull stated, shutting Gatt up. “Now, where are they?”

“Like I'll tell you!” Gatt spat at him.

“You will.” Bull remarked. “It's why they shot the arrow.”

* * *

**_Torture warning..._ **

Hawke woke with a start, and realized several things in quick succession. One, she was an idiot. Two, she was hanging up by her wrists being clapped in irons held by chains above her head. Three, she was not alone, but she couldn't see anything, and Four; Solas was going to be **_pisssssed._** Why had she thought walking into a trap was a good idea?

“Fazha thrin.” She hears, and groans before her blindfold is removed.

**_Leave us_ **

“Sataareth kadan hass-toh issala ebasit.” A female qunari said, looking at her. “Tell me then, Bass-saarebas, what would you have me do now?”

**_It is my purpose to do what I must for those I consider important._ **

“That is Basalit-an to you.” Hawke growled, and suddenly found she could not breathe.

“You may be Basalit-an to an Arishok, but not to me.” The woman replied, before letting go of her throat. “I am Viddasala. My role is to find, study, and stop magic. You, _Sulahn'ean,_ and your consort _Fen'harel,_ are the reason the south is in Chaos. You are the reason for the Breach. Your people know this, and yet you live?”

“Forgiveness goes a long way.” Hawke replied, with a smirk, not understanding why her head still felt so dizzy. Drugs maybe? It sure felt a hell of a lot stronger than magebane, that was for sure. “You should try it some time…or I could sew your mouth shut for you, if you like. I could even give you a straw, so you can Suck. _My._ **_Ass_.”**

“You returned this to us. For that, the Qun thanks you.” Viddasala stated, unphased by Hawke's remarks, and pointed to the very large book strapped to her arm. “You will be granted death after my study is complete.”

“As-eb vashe-qalabi!” Hawke spat, struggling against the chains now. “Do not think I will believe that you offer death as a gift for that book. You offer it, because you are going to kill me anyway. Since you're going to kill me, you should at least be honest about why.”

**_This is bullshit!_ **

“Very well.” Viddasala replied with a nod. “I will have my answers, and you will die. That is to be your fate. Perhaps you truly are Basalit-an after all, to accept your death as you are.”

Hawke struggled to get her magic to activate, but it wasn't like walking up rapids anymore. It was as if her feet were one with the ground. It wasn't dead, it was simply blocked. Viddasala did not seem troubled by her struggles, combing through the tools she planned to use, leaving no illusions as to what was about to happen. Searching around the room, Hawke saw an unconscious Solas hanging next to her, and her heart sank with guilt.

“You are aware to the block on your magic by now.” Viddasala stated, holding up a sharp instrument of some kind. “Good. We can begin.”

At first, the cuts are shallow. It is easier to hold in the screams because of that, but it was not to last. Each cut go deeper, and deeper, until finally she is gasping in an effort not to scream. She's pleading, trying to stall, but to no avail. The woman hadn't even asked her questions!

“Interesting. Your wounds appear on him to a lesser degree, and even yours are healing to an extent before my eyes.” Viddasala noted. “Even when your magic is blocked, the bond exists even then. Let's see what else can happen, shall we?”

“ _No… **please!**_ **…”** Hawke screamed, as agony swept through her. “You haven't asked your questions!”

“Oh, but I am.” Viddasala replied, in a calculating manner, before beginning her bloody work.

With every cut, every stab, Hawke screamed, no longer able to hold them back as she had before. Solas remained unmoved, unconscious as he was. Whatever they had done to him had made him unable to wake up, either that, or they had made it to where he could not react at all. Hawke didn't know which was worse. Over the course of the next several hours, she was whipped, beaten, and stabbed repeatedly; all the while Solas remained unconscious as new wounds began forming all over his body.

Viddasala did not listen to her pleas, did not care if Solas or she died during the course of the experiments, and so Hawke eventually stopped. Her voice was nearly gone anyway, but tears still streamed down her face. She couldn't reach her magic, Solas wasn't waking up, and she didn't know what to do. Skyhold was safe, but Hawke wasn't sure the cost was worth it anymore.

She was left alone for…Maker only knew how long. Sleep was uneasy, and sometimes she would wake to find Solas gone. New wounds showed themselves without her having to get them, and she knew what was happening. They had taken Solas to another room to torture him, to see what results it would have when they were apart. She tried to send him comfort, but she had no idea if it got through.

Eventually, she begins seeing images, memories with her face. She sees the moment he found her in that cell, and she'd touched his face, how warm her hand had felt against his skin; Gazing into her eyes after he'd kissed her in the hot spring; Her standing slightly above them all, wearing his mask and his shirt; The kiss behind the Apothecary's, and the feeling that he could not stop himself from just one more taste. Maker's breath, is that really how he saw her? The moment he'd held her against himself, had he really already been taking a comfort in her presence? How had she never noticed that he listened to her sing, that he took comfort in that?

Hawke realized what he was doing, using his memories of her to hold off the pain of what they were doing to him, and so she tried to send memories to help him. If those memories were things he took comfort in, she would send him one's she took comfort in, and hopefully show him how she remembers him. She shows him the moment in the cell, when he'd leaned his head into her hand, how vulnerable he had looked in that moment; How embarrassed he had looked when discovering her at the hot spring, the surprise she felt when she realized how Fen'harel looked at her; The few times she'd managed to wake up during the trip to Haven, and how worried he had looked, how nice it had felt being in his arms; The first time she had ever said ' _Ar shor eilar vena na_ ' to him, and how she'd felt when he'd run his fingers through her hair. It was all she could do to help him, and she hoped it was enough. The ability to share these memories may be a part of the bond, because try as she might, she still could not get her magic to respond to her; even her lyrium lines felt dead to her.

Silence, and pain, and memories; those are the only things she knows now. Every time Viddasala comes back, there is more pain, more blood. Solas sends memories when he is not present, comfort when he is, as Viddasala tests the bond. Moments, memories, time runs together. She can no longer tell how long they've been there.

* * *

 

Moments before…

 

“You are awake, I see. That is good.” A qunari woman said, seeing him look about the room with a dazed expression. “You, _Fen'harel,_ have proven to be a most challenging study.”

“And what do you hope to learn from this…most challenging study?” Solas asked, unable to clear the fog in his mind not bothering to ask why he was hung up like an animal to the slaughter…again.

He had not expected things to have gone the way they did. He knew he would be captured, but he had not expected to he knocked out and drugged. It appeared these were no ordinary foot soldiers. These qunari were higher in rank, and they knew a lot more about what he could do. His magic was at a dead standstill, something that shocked him, like it was behind a wall.

“I will tell you what I told the other Bass-saarabas. I am Viddasala. My role is to find, study, and stop magic. I will have my questions answered, and then you will die.”

It was then that the pain registered in his mind. Alhasha, they'd been torturing Alhasha, and he hadn't been able to help her. To take her wounds into himself partially had been all the bond had done. How had he not woken up for any of that? Had Alhasha refused to answer her questions, was that why the woman had tortured her?

Viddasala began a series of cuts, shallow ones at first, watching as they slightly healed because of the bond. It stung, but nowhere near what the wounds he already possessed did. Everything hurt, but it allowed him to hide behind it to avoid the new pain for a time. When she ran the knife along the lyrium line scar, he gasped, having forgotten just how painful that could be. The qunari woman did not appear to notice or care, too caught up in observing what her cuts did.

“ _Fenedhis lasa!_ Just ask your questions, _Asha!_ ” Solas growled, as she went back to the table to get a different tool.

**_woman_ **

“I am.” She replied, before beginning a series of deep gashes along his torso.

One can only hold their breath for so long to hold in the cries of pain. He could not beg her to stop, and she would not have listened anyway. There was no reason for her to, and Alhasha meant nothing to her, so that option was lost to him. He could hear Alhasha's screams, knowing that this Viddasala was torturing her as well because of the bond they shared. At least he had been asleep when they'd tortured her; She did not have that luxury.

He couldn't shift, couldn't access his magic. He doubted very much that she could access her lyrium lines, or else she would have done so already. This plan had backfired worse than he had imagined it could. There was no avenue of escape for them. If anyone was coming for them, they wouldn't get there for some time yet, and he knew they would need to find a way to indure the pain without losing their minds.

“What could you possibly be learning from this?” He asked, as he struggled to breathe, understanding that this was how she had **_questioned_** Alhasha.

She did not answer him, just continued to stab strategically and watch it heal, slice along his arms and legs. His mind races, even as he is unable to hold back his screams, and all he can do is think. Without even realizing it, he'd found his answer, but it wasn't just for Alhasha now; He needed it too. Even Vael had not been this impassioned, this calculating, this precise about the pain he inflicted. The irony that Solas now cherished the memories of the woman he'd tried to avoid was not lost on him, as he held onto the comfort they gave him.

For a while that helped, until the pain got so bad he couldn't think anymore. Viddasala had begun twisting things into him, leaving them there to watch how it affected the healing the bond allowed for. It was agony, and he could not escape it. So imagine his surprise when memories, he did not have, started playing for him in his mind. If he hadn't already been crying before, he would have then, realizing she had been able to see the memories he'd thought of before, that she was sending him her own to help him when he could not think.

He'd never thought of how those memories had looked like from her point of view, but to see them now. The emotions she'd felt during the memories replaced his pain, at least some of it. He could only hope his did the same for her. New pain meant more memories, and that was how they began communicating. They continued sharing memories even after the torture stops, when they can not sleep, because even the Fade is filled with pain here.

* * *

 

How long have they been here? Hawke has lost all sense of time now. They do not let her relieve herself often, and with no new food or water, there'd been no need. She'd thought she could try to escape during a 'break', or at least learn the layout of the place to make a really good attempt later, but no such luck. She'd been whipped extensively for that little stunt, crying out each time the whip strikes her.

* * *

 

He feels each strike of the whip as if it had struck him instead, and it worries him; not because of the pain, but because of what it means to her. They were trying to break her, he knew, trying to break them both. That Viddasala woman had told him as much. What he did not understand was why. What could they hope to learn by that?

What if…Break them, break the bond, kill them both. He knew as the first of their people 'so to speak', killing him would not be easy, but Alhasha…Alhasha was an evanuris as well, but even she had said him trying to break the bond almost killed them both. No, he could not allow himself to think it; she had proven herself to be damn near impossible to kill, and he would have faith that they would get out of this together. She was trying to hang on to something, a fraction of a memory, anything, desperate to hold onto the bond they shared. If he could reach her somehow, maybe he could help her, but he was not sure if they could communicate this way; they had never tried anything other than sharing the memories, and even that had been an accident.

( _Alhasha, they will find us. We must stay strong till then. They_ _will_ _come._ )

For a moment, there was nothing, and then…

( _ Solas?…Solas!…I can't…Why don't they just kill us already?…What more can they want?… _ )

Relief flooded him that he was able to reach her, but it was just as quickly turned into alarm because of what she'd said.

( _Alhasha,…Please, don't give up, Lath'in…Please!_ )

( _ It hurts…everything hurts…I'm so sorry!…I shouldn't have tried to do this on my own…I should have told you when I realized it was a trap…I'm so  _ _**stupid!** _ _ … _ )

( _Please, don't give up…You are strong enough to weather this…_ ** _We_** _are strong enough…_ _Please_ _, my love…_ )

She didn't respond back to him, and that worried him more. She had locked him out, focusing so hard on blocking out the pain, that she blocked out everything. That worried him, because he didn't know if his mind could break through those walls without breaking her mind. That was not something he wanted for Alhasha. It was so difficult to find the energy to do anything more than hang there, even thinking was troublesome, and he could barely feel his magic.

That thought woke him up. He could feel his magic again, if only just that little bit. Is this how Alhasha felt when this happened, he wondered. If he could just get it to do something now, he could try to free them! Outside, he could hear rattling of some kind, and sounds of shouting filled the air.

The door bursts open before he can try anything, and suddenly Blackwall is there. Blackwall? His mind almost doesn't register the man, before he and several others are helping him down from his chains. Varric and Sera make quick work of the chains and clasps. Lavellan shouting orders to the others. She looks like she's just gone through Adamant again, the smell of burning flesh and blood in the air.

“Where is she, Solas?” Lavellan asked, urgently.

“…never…same room long,…they…” Solas clinched his eyes, as another wave of dizziness struck him. Apparently it was not as easy to vocalize his thoughts as it was to articulate them in his mind at the current moment. “Need to…find her…She…”

“We've cleared the first few levels.” Blackwall said, still holding him up. “There's not that many left.”

 **“ _AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!_ ”** Alhasha's scream cut through anything else Blackwall might have said, and Solas's legs buckled under him even as he stumbled to right himself; barely able to breathe through the pain of it.

**_Torture warning end..._ **

No one needed to be told where to go. Her screams were like a beacon, and they raced towards her. When they came upon a set of rather large doors, Blackwall transferred Solas' weight to Dorian. It took Blackwall and Iron Bull to break down the door. Everyone stared at the condition Alhasha was in, blood covered nearly her entire body, but Iron Bull stared in shock at the woman who had previously been torturing her. Viddasala turned, and scoffed at them.

“Hissrad, redeem yourself! Fight by our side, and rejoin us once more!” The woman ordered. “Attack those who would destroy the Qun!”

Iron Bull shook his head. “I can't do that, not anymore.”

She raged, and ordered the men to attack them. Dorian had to drop Solas, because the fight was instant. He tried to crawl forward, moving slowly to get to Alhasha while avoiding the fighting. He had maybe enough energy for one burst of magic, and he needed to make sure that Alhasha was going to make it. It seemed though, that Viddasala had other ideas, and made to attack him the second she got an opening.

It was over before he'd realized what he'd done. He'd copied Alhasha's actions exactly, thrusting out his hand as he willed the woman to petrify into solid stone. It sapped his strength from him, and with it his hopes to heal Alhasha before it was too late. The rest of the fighting was over quickly, seeing as how their leader was dead or as good as. Blackwall, Varric, and Sera had Alhasha down in no time, but she was far from alright. Covered in blood and open wounds, she had just enough strength to take a step towards Solas before she folded in on herself. Sera helped her sit down without falling down, and Solas took her into his arms as he rested back against the wall.

“ _Alhasha_ …” He murmured, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “… _Ara_ _Lath'in…ir abelas_ …”  
Alhasha continued to cry, clinging to the remnants of Solas's shirt. It was like she didn't even notice anyone there. She spoke in elvhen, so broken that even Solas couldn't understand it. The others all began looking around the room for anything they could use to cover Alhasha. Even in her distraught state, Solas doubted that she would appreciate being seen in such a way, the clothes on her body little more than rags now. His clothes weren't much better, just enough.

“That's it! Which one?!” Sera shouted, suddenly angrier than she had been when they'd entered the place. “I'll cut their fucking hands off, and make'em eat it!”

Alhasha was jarred out of her shock, but only barely, pointed to one of the dead qunari by the wall. Sera went ballistic, chopping the hands off of the first qunari Alhasha had pointed to,…and then moving on to the others; It hadn't been just Viddasala that had tortured Alhasha. Sera wasn't satisfied till all the hands were cut off, but at least by then Alhasha wasn't shaking so much anymore, comforted by Sera's strange gesture. Tears still streamed down her face, and when Iron Bull walked over with a sheet they'd found, she cried harder; burying her face back in Solas' neck. Solas could only hold her as she cried, whispering what ever comforting words came to mind, silently apologizing to Iron Bull because she hadn't recognized him as him but just another qunari there to hurt her.

“ _Alhasha_ ,…it's…it's Iron Bull.” Solas whispered, when Alhasha cringed from Iron Bull again. “He won't…hurt you, _Lath'in_.”

“Come on. We can wrap you up. I'll carry you out of here, and you can tell me what they did.” Iron Bull said, holding out the blanket. “Some of those guys were re-educators. I know what they do. You can tell me anything.”

Alhasha nodded, crying more when she leaned into Iron Bull. They had her covered, and Iron Bull picked her up and walked out. Solas could already hear Alhasha tell him some of the things they had done; and having been through the reeducation process willingly, Iron Bull could understand some of what was done. Solas wanted more than anything to be able to help her through what had happened, but there were things he hadn't been present for, things only Iron Bull would understand. He gave a tired chuckle, wondering if maybe he should speak with Iron Bull later too.

* * *

 

Iron Bull listened as she went over the things that had happened, and with each new thing she described, he felt that much more guilt. If he had made a choice sooner, then maybe Hawke and Solas wouldn't have had to try and sacrifice themselves for the Inquisition. She'd cried herself to sleep after telling him everything. The Iron Bull swore nothing like this would ever happen to her again, but that didn't make him feel any better because it already had. They'd tried to re-educate her, something not many come back from, and he wondered if their bond may have just saved them here too.

“Are you even **_aware_** of how close you came to losing everything?” Dorian asked, completely pissed at him.

“I thought that's what I'd already done.” Iron Bull replied, as they made their way to Anders' temporary set up. “I don't know if you're aware of this, but I'm now a **_traitor_** to my people, a Tal-vashoth. Either way, I was going to lose, Kadan.”

“Don't you **_dare!”_** Dorian spat, angrily. “Don't you fucking  ** _dare_** claim that I'm that important to you, when you couldn't even make up your **_fucking_** mind till the last Maker be damned second! Hawke and Solas were willing to give up their possibly immortal **_lives_** without a **_thought_ ,** to save the Inquisition, because **_you_** put them into the position where they **_had_** to chose just so you wouldn't have to make a **_choice!”_**

“Can you two take your lover's spat somewhere else, please?” Anders asked, in annoyance, when they brought Hawke in. “Unless you'd like to stay here, and help with the wounded, I need you out.”

“I screwed up, Kadan.” Iron Bull said, more quietly, after he had placed Hawke on one of the matts and they'd stepped away to have privacy. “Solas warned me this might happen, that he hoped I'd never have to chose between what I held dear, and my people. He'd told me how difficult it had been for him to choose, that not everyone gets a chance to choose both, so I tried not to choose at all. It was the **_worst_** decision. I messed up, and I can't change what I did, but I can try and make it right. Will you help me?”

Dorian looked torn for a moment, before nodding, surprising Iron Bull by leaning into him.

“I will help you, but don't think that means I'm not still mad at you, Amatus.” Dorian warned. “Don't you ever do anything like that again.”

* * *

 

Anders had been working with Vivienne, Morrigan, and Fiona for over an hour trying to heal the injuries Hawke and Solas had sustained while in the hands of the Qun. All they had managed to do was clean them up a bit. They'd discovered that something was blocking any **_major_** healing magic the two possessed, minor healing not withstanding, or any attempts to heal them magically. So they'd been bandaged, and poltices had been made for them. Vivienne and Fiona were arguing about the next method of healing to try, when Anders got an idea, and called for Iron Bull. If anyone would know something, he was their best shot.

“What do you need, Anders?” Iron Bull asked, when he'd stepped back into the tent.

“What would they have given them? A potion? A powder? Something that puts magebane to shame, that's all I know.” Anders asked, running a hand through his hair. “Hawke is extremely resistant to magebane, but I can't feel her magic at all right now. I can only just barely sense Solas' magic. Anything you can tell me would be useful. We're grasping at straws now.”

“Qamek. It's a substance used by the re-educators. If you can't be converted to the Qun through the means of peace before reeducation, they use this to turn people into mindless laborers.” Iron Bull replied, after a moment of thought. “It's given to mages automatically. Depending on how much they were given, it could burn out on it's own, or…”

“Or what?” Anders demanded, impatiently.

“Or it won't, and we will never see Hawke and Solas **_truly_** ever again.” Iron Bull replied, bluntly. “She was talking on the way here, and Solas was a little as well. So they've got a good possibility of making through this, but until that stuff burns out, you can't use magic on them. It just won't hold.”

“Is there any way to tell how much they used?” Anders asked, now worried that this was far worse than what they'd originally thought.

“I can check the rooms again. There's no other way than that.” Iron Bull said, before leaving the tent.

“How are you holding up?” Dorian asked, looking at him.

“My best friend has all but lost her magic, and has been tortured possibly to the brink of madness. She's laying next to a would be elven god that shares her fate, and if we can't find a way to help them, they're both going to die anyway.” Anders replied, with a sigh as he sat in a nearby chair, too tired to hold back his sarcasm. “Other than that, I'm **_peachy.”_**

 


	43. Wait and Recover

Chapter 43

 

His mind was troubled, as he struggled to remember what had happened. He felt bogged down, and yet he didn't seem to want to fight it, and that bothered him. Whatever this was, it had the power to make him feel content without knowing why. A groan escapes him, and he opens his eyes, surprised that he actually can now. There was something else pushing on his mind, a sense of urgency and fear, like he was missing something.

Sitting up slowly, he looked around the room. It was a basic healer's tent. What had he been doing to need one of those? Where was the healer, and could they tell him why he felt this strange sense of urgency? There was something wrong, he could feel it, and the longer he was awake the more he felt it.

Stumbling out of bed, he clumsily made his way to the exit. There was a pull, this sense of urgency was strongest at a point. He didn't know why, but he had to get to that point, had to do something to help. Where were the people? Why was there no one around at all to help him find who he was looking for?

Who? He was looking for a person? Though that seemed very strange to him, it felt right also. He was looking for someone, could feel them calling out for help, their desperate need to find him. There were dizzy spells that hit him, moments where he had to pause till they passed, but when they did he was right back to moving along the hallway he'd ended up in. He would find this person, and maybe they could tell him what was going on; maybe they knew where his memories had gone.

His name, where he was from, if there was anyone who loved him; he could remember none of it, but she did, she knew. She? Yes, that felt right too. He didn't know why it felt accurate, but it did. Secure in this knowledge, he continued to make his way, till he got to a door that he could not open. Locked? Why was it locked? It should open up because he wanted it to……and then it did.

Well that was certainly a development. Had the door just been stubborn? No, that didn't seem right. Magic then? That felt accurate somehow. He'd willed the door to open, and so it had. He wondered vaguely if there were others like him. Surely he could not be the only one with such abilities. Now was not the time to worry about such things. The woman would tell him, if he asked, and she needed him more than he needed to know these things.

Another room, another door, and then he saw her. Wild ink black hair framed her face, and though he couldn't see her eyes, he **_knew_** they out-shined the blue of the small lyrium lines that graced her skin. He knew her name the moment he saw her face, troubled though it was in sleep. Alhasha. If he remembered nothing about his life, he knew she loved him, but how could she when she knew the kind of man he was? **_That_** thought troubled him more than anything else, and he wondered just what kind of man he had been to make him want to push away any love offered to him.

If he left now, she would not be able to stop him. He could leave her here, let her live a more peaceful life than what he could offer. Even as he thought these things, pain filled his heart, and he knew he would not be able to leave the woman here. Selfish being that he was, he needed the love he knew she would offer. Somehow, he knew he would also be foolish to refuse her.

The closer he got to her, the more the urgency from before seemed to fade away. **_This_** was where he needed to be. She'd been the one to call to him, after all. The mabari pup at her feet gave him pause, and he faintly remembered that hounds did not like him, but this one just looked at him as if it knew him and snuggled back into the blankets on which it rested. Flashes of memory flitted before his eyes, an image of an older mabari judging him with favor, something he realized had to do with the woman asleep in the cot.

A bit of hair fell over her face, and he moved it away. As he did so, more flashes of memories came. So many that he couldn't make sense of them, and still he saw more. It hurt his head to try and sort through them all now, and so he opted to get into the cot with Alhasha. She snuggled into him, even in her sleep, and his eyes began to feel heavy once more.

* * *

 

It had been so chaotic, that with the trip back to Skyhold, the two had been placed into different areas. They were the last ones left, something about the Qamek still had to be sorted out of their systems, and only time would do that. So when Anders went to check on Solas, naturally he expected him to be in his own cot. He found this not to be the case, and went searching the other areas. When he got to the are they'd been keeping Hawke in, he let out a sigh of relief.

Really, he shouldn't have been surprised. Somehow, Solas had managed to wake from a chemically induced coma and make his way back to Hawke. If he moved Solas back to where he had been, Anders had no doubt in his mind that it would just happen again. Those two seemed to always be drawn to each other, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit jealous of the bond the two shared. He didn't know if there was anyone like that for him, but he is also happy that it has happened for his friend. She deserved to be cherished, and he knew that he could never have offered that to her, not then or now, not in the way she deserved.

That was a thought for another time. For now, he would check their vitals and hope for the best. Things seemed better in that regard at least. Heartbeats were stronger now, something he was thankful for. They may even wake up soon, something all of Skyhold seemed to be holding their breath for. Even the Inquisitor had only been going on small missions in order to make sure she could come back quickly in case she missed something.

* * *

 

“ _Thena'sul'em, Alhasha.”_

**_Wake for me, Alhasha_ **

She doesn't know who this is, but she **_really_** wishes she were awake enough to promptly tell them to fuck off so she can sleep some more. This is probably the best nights rest she's had in…ever, and some sexy exotic sounding man's voice wasn't about to ruin it. Who does he think he is anyway, ruining her sleep like this? Didn't he have any manners at all? She just wants to sleep, after everything she's done, the world owes her that much. She's tired of fighting, tired of losing those she loves, and just wants to sleep.

“ _Sathan,_ _ara lath'in. Sathan thena'sul'em.”_

**_Please,_ _my place where love lives. Please wake for me._ **

She grumbles at them incoherently, this time rolling over away from them. If they wouldn't stop talking to her, she'd find a better sleeping spot. She doesn't, and knows she won't; She quite liked this sleeping spot, and didn't want to be chased away from it. He sounds desperate, whoever this man is, to reach her. Why would anyone want to reach her? They'd just die when she let her guard down, and she couldn't let that happen; better to ignore them.

“ _Tel'tua'em shira'min'tiralas sasha, Alhasha. Ar shor tel rosa'ra ei tael melahn. Sathan. Sathan, thena'sul'em, ara lath.”_

**_Don't make me walk this world alone, Alhasha. I will not survive it a second time. Please. Please, wake for me, my love._ **

To walk this world alone, wasn't that what she was afraid of? Being left behind? Who was this that knew her fear so well they could speak it like it was their own? She rolled back around, and snuggled into them. Whoever they were, they were comfy and warm at least. She could almost feel them laughing at her.

“ _Lath'in, sathan. Ar mi'nas'sal'in na.”_

**_Love, please. I miss you._ **

That word mi'nas'sal'in struck her. It meant something more than to simply miss someone. Poetically, it meant the intense feeling of missing something or someone that is deeply important or personal. Literally translated it meant – The knife again in my soul. There was someone who felt like that about her? Sure, he'd said he loved her, but it wouldn't be the first time someone said that to get what they wanted. No, he'd gone beyond that. He'd called her his place where love lives, his love, as if he thought he would never have such a feeling.

How long had he walked this world, as he had so eloquently put it, before finding her? Had she already made him 'walk this world alone' once already? Why was it so hard to open her eyes? She didn't want to, but the need to ease this man's pain made her fight to wake up. It was warm here, and comfortable. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt no pain, and she knew that if she woke up, she would be inviting that pain back into her life. It was a hard decision to have to make, one she wished she didn't have to make at all. Hadn't she done enough for the world? Hadn't she earned a few moments rest? She suspected though, that were she to stay as she was, it would be a bit more permanent than a few moments rest.

With a will she did not realize she possessed, she managed to open her eyes. Things were a bit blurry at first, but quickly came into focus. It was his eyes she noticed first, so grey they could be silver. He looked sad and unsure, and yet so relieved, the strength of it threw her. These were _**his**_ feelings, she realized she could feel them as if they were her own, and reached up to touch his face, anything in the hope that it would comfort him. He closed his eyes, leaning his head into her touch, and she remembered.

“Solas…?” She wasn't sure what she'd been about to attempt to say, but it was stolen from her the moment he opened his eyes again.

There was relief, fear, joy, nervousness, and love; so much that she was overcome by it. She realized that he was sitting in a chair beside the cot she was in. How long had she been out? Confusion hit her, as she clearly remembered a warm presence holding her. How long had it taken her to open her eyes? She was startled, realizing her hand was wet, shocked that he was crying; tears of relief and nervous energy.

“ _Ar gelem na shyr'tel thena._ ” Solas admitted, as he held her hand to his face, placing a kiss on her pulse point. “ _Ar sil……Ar shyr tel'uth itha nar inan sal……_ The Qamek that was in your system……there was so much, _Alhasha,_ even more than they had given me.”

**_I feared you would not wake – I thought……I would never see your eyes again_ **

“ _Ir abelas, Solas_.” She said, tears welling up in her eyes as his emotions and her own overwhelmed her. “It's all my fault…all of it…I…”

She curled in on herself, and turned away from him. She knew he didn't blame her, but she just felt so guilty. Had she told him about the trap ahead of time, maybe they could have come up with a plan or something. Instead, she walked into it without a plan, like she always does. If he chose to leave, she wouldn't blame him, considering it was no less than what she deserved. It breaks her heart that he might leave, but it is because he stays with her that he is in pain. Perhaps, if she makes him hate her, or pushed him away?

“They would have tried something else, and you know it, _Lath'in._ You do not bare responsibility for the decisions of the world.” Solas stated, his voice cracking as he tried not to convey how sad he was that she was turning from him, as he climbs into the cot with her. She does not respond, and he all but whispers. “ _Sathan, tel'banal'vara em var. Sathan, Sulahn'ean_. It is what I would do, I know, but please… _Ir tel soun aelyl sul'ra…Ar tel nuvenin sai'ei soun aelyl sul'ra._ ”

**_Please, don't push/exile me away. Please, Songbird. - I am not strong enough for that…I do not want to be strong enough for that_ **

She doesn't say anything, just turns back towards him and buries her face in his shirt. He whispers little things to ease her mind, secrets or stories, she knows not. What ever it is, she finds that she doesn't care. Right now the only thing that mattered was that he refused to let her blame herself for this, that he refused to let her go. She falls asleep again, comforted by his soothing voice as he whispers little things she will not remember the details of upon waking.

* * *

 

It is weeks before Iron Bull attempts to approach them. Oh, he's wanted to before now, but could never bring himself to try it. Every time he is near Hawke, she flinches. He's not even sure she's aware she's doing it, and it bothers him more than he thought it would. Solas watches him closer on those days; not because he thinks Iron Bull will actually do anything to hurt her, but because he has let his guard down once before and refuses to do so again.

Iron Bull doesn't blame him, can't find it in him to fault the elf for how protective he is of Hawke now. There is something different about her now. She is more withdrawn than he has ever seen her, and Iron Bull knows it is his fault. If he'd just made his choice sooner, maybe they could have set up a defense against the Qun. Before, he would not have thought it a possibility, but this is Hawke and Solas, and impossible things just **_happen_** around them.

“It will not always be this way, you know.” Solas said, scaring him out of his thoughts. Iron Bull looked over at him as Solas sat next to him at the bar.

“I know. I spend half my time wondering how I'm going to fix this, and the other half wondering if Iron Bull fits a little too well now that I really am Tal-vashoth.” Iron Bull admitted. “How's she doing?”

“She still flinches at the sight of you, but it gets less every time.” Solas stated, probably knowing that Bull had seen her do that. “She realizes she's done so after you are gone, and then she feels guilty because you are her friend and she doesn't want you to think she's afraid of you. It is not **_you_** she is afraid of, but she fears qunari now in a way she did not after the fight with the Arishok. I do not know how to help her.”

“This might take a more head on approach.” Iron Bull suggested. “I may have some guys coming for me soon. Undercover types, you understand. Might shake her out of this.”

“You're suggesting a fight with viddathari?” Solas asked, in mild shock. “You know they're coming to kill you? Does the Inquisitor know?”

“I'm not sure what they'll do, send people after me or ignore me altogether, but the Inquisitor's not had years of ben-hassrath facial recognition training like I have. I'll call for her to meet me just before, make up something about a meeting when I know for sure. She'll understand once it's over, and it's not the worst thing I've withheld.” Iron Bull stated. “You, on the other hand, can bluff even better than I can. Lies of omission is like its own language to you; except when it comes to Hawke and DiamondBack games. I still can't figure that one out.”

“I will have you know I was rather… ** _distracted_**...at the time. Trying to ignore her only made me that much more **_aware_** of her until she was all I could see.” Solas admitted, a bit sheepishly. “What I want to know is who taught her how to layer fake tells like that.”

“That, Chuckles, would be Rivaini.” Varric said, as he gestured to the bartender. “I'm still trying not to feel guilty that I technically helped encourage underage drinking and gambling; not to mention my trying to set her up with Broody. I even tried to pit Blondie and Broody against each other, thinking one of them would win out. It wasn't until Curly started hiding out in the Gallows that I realized Rivaini had been running some kind of jealous protective shield defense of her. Not even the King of Fereldan made it passed that. I'm still surprised **_you_** managed it, even **_with_** the whole kindred souls thing. How **_did_** you avoid Rivaini anyway?”

“While I do not fault the woman for chosing to go after only physical pleasures, I had grown tired of such pursuits long before she tried to lure me from _Alhasha_.” Solas said, shaking his head. “She simply had nothing I wanted, because she was not the **_one_** I wanted.”

“Damned fine answer, elf.” Varric said, scribbling things down in his book. “I'll be sure to add that one in later.”

“I can't decide if I dread or look forward to the book you will end up writing from all this, Child of the Stone.” Solas remarked, eyeing the dwarf in question.

“Like I haven't heard that one before.” Varric snorted, and Iron Bull laughed.

“As long as you don't get Isabela to draw the pictures, my mind won't be scarred, at any rate.” Solas scoffed.

“Alright, but that just means you've signed yourself up to be the illustrator.” Varric pointed out, actually making Solas drop his jaw in shock as he tried to find some way to get out of this, and Iron Bull had never laughed so hard.

“That is preposterous.” Solas objected. “How did you even work that out, Child of the Stone?”

“Well, you and Rivaini are kind of the only artists I know.” Varric said, as if this made perfect sense.

“ _Alhasha_ draws as well. I am sure you are well aware of that.” Solas pointed out. “Ask **_her_** to draw your pictures.”

“I could, but I like to pretend that she's my only innocent friend now.” Varric admitted, much to Iron Bull's amusement, and Solas stared incredulously. Finally, Varric had to explain. “Well, it **_was_** Daisy, but then she had to go all dark-side with Broody. There are some sounds you just can't unhear, Chuckles.”

“As many times as you've caught us in various states of undress, and **_she's_** your innocent friend?” Solas asked, unable to hold back his laughter at that point. “Do you have any idea what that woman has **_done_** to me?”

“Yes, and I'm erasing it from my mind as we speak.” Varric replied, dutifully in respect to the new illusion he's created for himself.

“But then how will you write your story, dwarf?” Solas asked. Varric just huffed, while Iron Bull laughed at them, and everything seemed fine till Gatt walked into The Herald's Rest. The place instantly got quiet, as his presence was realized.

“You're still alive?” Iron Bull asked, standing up from the bar.

“They decided that they did not see the need to lose another good man.” Gatt replied, with a slight nod.

“Then why are you here?” Solas asked, no longer laughing with Varric.

“It is protocol at the end of an alliance, even one that was intended as a trap.” Gatt explained. “They decided to send me where the Inquisitor spared my life.”

“Should we expect a war then, Gatt?” Iron Bull asked, warily.

“I'm not sure. That was something they specifically did not tell me.” Gatt replied, shaking his head. “You have turned your back on the Qun, and the Inquisition harbours _Fen'Harel_ and _Sulahn'ean._ They can't just let those things go. If it was you alone, maybe they wouldn't think but to send a couple of people…This? I don't know what they'll do for this.”

“They knew you would want to warn us, not for our sakes, but for The Iron Bull's.” Solas noted, in understanding, before turning to Iron Bull. “We shall have to play chess sometime, either that or challenge Dorian and Commander Cullen. Both of them think they're the best at it. For now, I think I will take my leave.”

“Another time then, Solas.” Iron Bull agrees.

“ _Solas_? Why not call him his name?” Gatt asked, in disgust as Solas passed.

“We **_are_ ,** Hot-Shot, we are.” Varric replied, with a shake of his head. “You didn't think someone would actually **_name_** him The Dread Wolf, did you?”

“I had not thought about it.” Gatt admitted. “At any rate, I have alerted the Inquisitor of the Qun's stance, and now it is time to take my leave. Goodbye…Iron Bull.”

* * *

 

Gatt shakes his head as he leaves The Herald's Rest. These people, that they would align themselves with such a being knowingly. He does not understand how they can embrace such chaos when certainty felt so safe. A shout pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see what it was. Nothing jumped out at him, and then he saw her.

He'd not read the reports of what Hawke or this Sulahn'ean looked like, but he'd heard enough stories to know that's who this was. Bright blue eyes like lyrium, ink black hair, legs for days; She is a **_vision_ ,** and even the lyrium that lines her skin only compliments her. She looked hesitant, waiting for something, and then her eyes brightened as Fen'Harel walked over to her from a vendor's stall. The young mabari following after him was a strange sight to combine with what he knew of Fen'Harel, but he also knew that Sulahn'ean was her own brand of chaos, and maybe that was how it had affected Fen'Harel. The way they looked at each other, she with an almost unguarded innocence and he as a fierce protector, was quite different than anything he'd ever heard in the legends of the two of them.

He didn't even have the chance to get near them when he'd tried walking towards them. Sulahn'ean tensed and Fen'Harel's eyes found his own. **_This_** was the Fen'Harel he'd heard stories of, the one whose eyes promised no mercy should someone cross him. She looked confused, unsure of what Gatt wanted, but she did not back away. She touched Fen'Harel on the arm, and the tension in him lessened to a degree, but his eyes did not leave Gatt.

“ _Atisha. Tamahn'n banal harilla._ ” Gatt stated, raising his hands to show that he was not reaching for a weapon.

**_Peace. There is nothing to struggle against._ **

“Kost. Maraas shokra.” Sulahn'ean replied in return, something that made Fen'Harel look to her out of curiosity.

“One day, _Lath'in,_ I will figure out exactly just how many languages you truly know.” Fen'Harel remarked, after a moment, a look of slight amusement on his face.

“The qunari were in Kirkwall for a while, _Ara'nas._ I asked Fenris to teach me so I could understand the small talk going on around me when I had to meet with the Arishok.” Sulahn'ean said, a bit of blush crossing her fair skin, before turning to him. “If there is nothing to struggle against, why are you in Skyhold?”

“Were you not **_leaving_** moments ago?” Fen'Harel asked him, barely keeping his voice at the civility Sulahn'ean was using. “Do not let us stop you.”

“I was. I will be.” Gatt replied, but hesitated. “It's just…while I do not know how the Qun will react to…Iron Bull…I know how they would want to react to you escaping their hold. Whether they do that, take the fight to Skyhold, I do not know. I would ask you…take care of him for me, would you? Whatever his name may be, he is my friend.”

“We will do our best for him.” Sulahn'ean agreed. “Thank you…for the warning. You didn't have to do that.”

“It's not a warning. Just a personal observation.” Gatt stated. Sulahn'ean smiled in understanding, and Fen'Harel nodded slightly. “Panahedan, Basalit-an, Arishokrakar.”

**_Goodbye/take refuge in safety, One worthy of respect, Rebel Leader_ **

“ _Gera'diala'i'eth_ , Gatt.” Sulahn'ean acknowledged, returning the gesture, and Gatt made his way out of Skyhold.

* * *

 

“What was that?” Solas asked, after Gatt was gone. “That last word. What does that mean?”

“You know I'm not completely fluent in qunlat, right? Let me see if I can remember what Fenris said about root words…The meaning of Ari changes depending on where it is. If it's in front like that, it means a singular leader. If it's at the end of a word, it's talking about a group. Shok can be either war or struggle, but shokrakar means rebel.” Hawke said, working through the translation. She'd not heard that particular word when learning Qunlat. “So, basically he just called you……Leader of the Rebellion.”

“It seems I will never be rid of such a title.” Solas mused.

“I doubt it was meant as an insult.” Hawke replied, her gaze wondering to where Gatt had left. “He seems…confused, not angry.”

“You are not angry at him?” Solas asked, in surprise.

“A little, but it was easy to forgive him. Same thing for Bull.” Hawke said, after a moment. “The ones I was truly angry at are dead, and there is no more reason to hold onto such anger. I will, however, prepare for those that wait.”

“I thought planning was **_my_** thing, _Lath'in_?” Solas asked, his tone a teasing one.

“It is.” She replied, looking back at him with a mischievous grin as she moves close enough for him to put his arms around her waist, her lips not far from his own. “So you should be **_very_** afraid when I do.”

* * *

 

With everyone finally all healed up, Lavellan wished to get going again. She'd left for small missions while some of the others healed, but now was the time to get moving again. Solas had stuck close by Hawke in the last few weeks, no doubt the incident with the Qun weighed heavily on him. Their scars were light in comparison to what they should be, their bond working to heal them in its way. She knew this time apart would be good for them, and planned to make it a short trip.

“How do you feel, Iron Bull?” Solas asked, as the traveled away from Skyhold. “Do you need a distraction to focus your mind?”

“Well, this area's low on dancing girls, sadly.” Bull noted, as he looked around at the landscape. Lavellan tried not to snicker.

Solas grinned slightly at her, before replying to Bull. “King's Pawn to E4.”

“You're **_shitting_** me right now.” Bull exclaimed in disbelief. “We don't even have a **_board!”_**

“Too **_complicated_** for a savage Tal-vashoth?” Solas asked, leadingly, arching a single eyebrow at him.

“You're a smug little asshole. You know that?” Bull grumbled. “Fine. Pawn to E5.”

“Pawn to F4. King's Gambit.” Solas replied, with a slight grin. Lavellan noted that he had begun this when they were no longer in view of Skyhold, and wondered just **_who_** it was that was actually in need of distraction.

“Accepted. Pawn takes Pawn.” Bull replied, fully enjoying this now.

“What are they doing?” Cassandra asked, keeping her voice low.

“Distracting each other so that they don't turn around and abandon us on the road so that they can go back to Skyhold for those that are important to them, Seeker.” Varric replied, definitely taking notes. “But for the purposes of their words. Chess.”

“I have 5 sovereigns on Bull to win.” Lavellan whispered, snickering when she hears both Bull and Solas grumble at her.

“Doubtful. Solas will win.” Cassandra replied, not even bothering to keep her voice down. “I will do 5 Sovereigns as well.”

They make camp before either of them will speak of it again, much to the impatience of everyone else.

“So where were we?” Solas asked, as he worked over the stew. “Ah, yes. Mage to C4.”

“Little aggressive.” Bull comments, not even looking up as he's sharpening his blade. “Arishok to H4. Check.”

“Speaking of aggressive. I take it the Arishok is your term for the Queen?” Solas asked. Lavellan is pretty sure all other activity has stopped besides those two. “King to F1.”

“Pawn to B5.” Iron Bull replies, without missing a beat.

“You have my curiosity, Iron Bull.” Solas notes, with some respect. “Mage takes Pawn.”

“You call your Tamassrans Mages?” Iron Bull scoffs. “Ben-Hassrath to F6.”

“Who's winning?” Cassandra asked, only to be shushed by Varric.

“You call your Knights Ben-Hassrath?” Solas replies in the same manner Bull had used. “Incidentally, Knight to F3.”

“Ben-Hassrath makes more sense than horses. They're sneaky, and they can move through enemy lines.” Bull reasoned, in defense of his Ben-Hassrath Knights. “Arishok to H6.”

“Food is ready, if anyone is actually interested.” Solas remarked, with some amusement, before looking over to Bull. “Pawn to D3.”

“Are you going to keep this game up if we eat?” Lavellan asked, hopeful and curious at the same time.

“Ben-Hassrath to H5. Hah!” Bull smirked victoriously. “It's alright, Mage, take some time. Think about your life choices.”

“I guess that would be a no for now, _Lethal'lan_.” Solas said, in reply to her. “Perhaps after I have thought over my life choices.”

 

The next morning, she hears

 

“Alright, Bull, if you are prepared. Knight to H4.” Solas stated. He is working in his sketch book now, and Lavellan is almost as curious as to what he's working on as she is about the winner of the match, when she leaves her tent.

“Arishok to G5.” Bull replied, after a moment. Seeing her, he adds. “Hey, Boss, did we wake you?”

“Not at all, Bull. I should have been up earlier for guard shift.” Lavellan admitted.

“I was hoping they would play before now.” Cassandra admitted, sheepishly. Varric just snickers at them both.

“So, you giving up the Tamassran at B5 or the Ben-Hassrath at H4?” Bull asked Solas, as he prepared for the day.

“Neither.” Solas replied. “Knight to F5.”

“Pawn to C6.” Bull said, looking at him in disbelief. “What are you **_doing_ _,_** Solas? I get that you're worried about her, but you just left your Tamassran hanging out in the wind.”

“And **_you_**  your Knight.” Solas remarked, looking up from his sketch book for a second. “Pawn to G4.”

“Ben-Hassrath to F6.” Bull replied, still with a tone of disbelief, and waited.

“Mmm.” Solas murmured for a moment, then said. “Tower to G1.”

“Hah! Pawn takes your Tamassran!” Bull bragged, before teasing. “Too much time playing with spirits, Fade Walker.”

“We shall see.” Solas replied, but his slight smile said he was glad for the comradorie.

They do not continue the game after that, at least not for a while, Solas trying to focus on his what his next move would be more than where he wanted to be. The others seemed to pick up on it, though no one is quite sure what to do. Lavellan keeps pushing everyone forward for as long as she can, and they reach The Emerald Graves again within a weeks time. She's been here before, but had not thought to bring Solas, and now she wonders what he will say about the place. His cryptic messages occasionally filter back into her thoughts, and now that she knows who he is, she wonders at the meaning of them.

* * *

 

“There's no need to mope, you know.” Dorian stated, pulling her attention away from the now blank wall where Solas' frescos had been.

“Hey, Dorian.” Hawke greeted, trying to smile a little. It was a horrible attempt.

“What's got you down, Hawke?” Dorian asked, tilting his head as he evaluated her expression. “You don't normally have that look. It doesn't suit you.”

“Solas…” She tried to explain, but just sighed again.

“Well, I vote we drink this fantastic wine I stole from my father's cellar in Minrathous, and you can tell me all about it.” Dorian volunteered.

“Aggregio?” She asked, looking hopeful.

“You know Tevinter wines?” Dorian asked, in surprise, as he sat down the glasses and wine bottle at the table and poured the wine.

“Just that one. We raided Danarius' wine cellar in Kirkwall, after we killed everything inside.” She explained, with a sheepish grin. “Before Fenris realized how young I really was, the two of us got rip roaring drunk on the stuff. Drank it straight from the bottle, and then threw them at the walls. It was **_very_** therapeutic.”

“He won't run, you know, if that's what you're afraid of.” Dorian stated, guessing that was the reason why she was in such a melancholy mood.

“That's not why I'm like this.” Hawke replied, taking a sip from the wine glass. “It's Solas…We feel each others moods, which is good when he's close by, because then I can help. When we're apart like this, I don't know how to help him. I'm sure sending him memories would distract him from the focus of the mission they're on, and he…”

“A kiss, a **_name_ _,_** and it is more. **_She_** is more. We. Our. Words that make her smile when he says them. It was the right choice, not to run.” Cole said, comfortingly. No one was surprised when he suddenly showed up, having long ago gotten use to his movements. “He worries now that he is not here. A fight or a war, which will they choose? We can weather this. We must be strong enough. Please don't take her from me.”

“He's worried the Qun will attack Skyhold while he is away.” Dorian realized.

“Yes.” Cole replied. “Pride has never had so much to lose, not after he made himself forget. Now that he remembers, he fears love will be taken from him if he is not here to help fight for it, more so now because of the Qun. Before there was only pain and loss, an old hurt that could not be healed. Now there is love, and hope for a new chance, a song only he can hear.”

“He regrets not being able to save Mythal, his sister in all but blood.” Hawke explained. “She's Flemeth now.”

“Either that, or he felt the loss of you without remembering.” Dorian suggested. “Or both. It's impossible to save someone that's already been killed the way you talked about Mythal being killed, but it is possible to heal from that. To feel a loss you can not find the origin of? There's no way to heal a wound you can not find.”

“He lied to the Stone. 'I am not much of a gambler anymore' he says, but he is willing to bet on this. On **_you_.”** Cole said, pointing to Hawke. “Misses and worries for you. Please be safe, my _Lath'in._ Teasing the Tal-Vashoth to keep his mind there. King's Pawn to E4.”

“I think they will be fine.” Dorian remarked, after hearing that. “Bull is insane about chess.”

“I'm sure.” Hawke agreed, with a bit of a lazy smile. “So, Dorian? Just how drunk were you planning on getting me to get this imformation had it not been for Cole?”

“Very, but then the words would have been all fuzzy.” Cole replied instantly, making the pair laugh. “The words are harder to hear when they sound so slow. Fuzzy, soft. She sleeps and the words are gone.”

 


End file.
